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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>BERNARD TREVES'S BOOTS</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Bernard Treve's Boots" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<meta name="PG.Reposted" content="2013-05-14 (minor correction)" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Laurence Clarke" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1920" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="42459" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-04-01" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Bernard Treve's Boots A Novel of the Secret Service" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Bernard Treve's Boots A Novel of the Secret Service" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="bernard.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2013-05-14T22:52:46.035530+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42459" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Laurence Clarke" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2013-04-01" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="bernard-treves-s-boots"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">BERNARD TREVES'S BOOTS</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Bernard Treve's Boots -<br /> A Novel of the Secret Service -<br /> -<br />Author: Laurence Clarke -<br /> -<br />Release Date: April 01, 2013 [EBook #42459] -<br />Reposted: May 14, 2013 [(minor correction)] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>BERNARD TREVE'S BOOTS</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">BERNARD TREVES'S BOOTS</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">A NOVEL OF THE SECRET SERVICE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">LAURENCE CLARKE</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF "A PRINCE OF INDIA," ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">HODDER AND STOUGHTON LIMITED -<br />LONDON -<br />1920</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container dedication"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">DEDICATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">To Sir Emsley Carr, who suggested -<br />that I should write this book, and -<br />to whom I am much indebted for -<br />valuable first-hand incidents which -<br />figure in these pages.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><em class="italics medium">January</em><span class="medium">, 1920.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-i"><span class="large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Are you sure your name is Manton?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Gilbert looked keenly across the table. The -light in the little room was not good, and the expression -on the Captain's face was one of intense interest and -bewilderment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite sure, sir—John Manton," answered the man -standing at the further side of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton was one of a number of recruits who had that -day presented themselves at the Ryde Recruiting Office—a -tall, well-poised man of twenty-six, dark-haired, -blue-eyed, firm-lipped and vigorous-looking, despite the -fact that his countenance was somewhat pale. He wore -a well-brushed blue serge suit, noticeably the worse for -wear. His bowler hat, too, had seen long service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Gilbert, still looking at him, drew forth a -sheet of paper, and took up his pen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John Manton," he wrote, then his eyes lifted, and -he looked once more and with a peculiar expression into -the tall young recruit's face. For a moment he paused. -"Manton," he said, "I should like to see you privately -after the office closes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man steadily returned his gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir," he said, with an air of docility. "At -what time shall I come?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At eight o'clock," returned Gilbert. "Wait for me -outside." His eyes followed the other as he turned and -left the building, but the moment the door had closed -Captain Gilbert plunged once again into his work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Next," he called to the line of men seated on the -far side of the room; and the man at the end of the -line rose and advanced towards the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton in the meantime paced the streets until eight -o'clock, then turned his steps towards the recruiting office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder what he wants," thought the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Possibly Gilbert guessed he had been in the army before, -and wished to question him upon that point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever he wants," thought Manton, somewhat -wearily, "does not much matter. If he refuses to take -me, and manages to find out everything, I can enlist -somewhere else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the clock struck eight Captain Gilbert, with an air -of haste, closed his desk, left the office and came striding -along the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" exclaimed the Captain, catching sight of -Manton, "we'll come up here to the left; it's quieter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led the way as he spoke towards a deserted side -street. It was already almost dark, and the dimmed -street lamps had been lit. They had proceeded some -distance together in silence, when Gilbert halted suddenly, -and laid his hand on Manton's shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves," he said, "so you had the grit to do it, -after all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton turned and stared in wonderment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do what, sir?" But he suddenly felt his fingers -seized in a cordial grip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gad," went on Gilbert, "that'll make a man of you—eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I don't understand a word of what you -are saying, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't understand a word! Why, of course -you don't! I like you for it—and I'll be frank, I thought -I never could like you. Somehow," he went on, looking -into Manton's face, "you are the same and yet different, -but I'd know you anywhere, despite this shabby old suit -and your battered bowler. You knew me, too, when -you came into the office."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, still bewildered beyond measure, shook his -head slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have never seen you in my life before, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, of course not," laughed Gilbert, who was jovial -and good-natured. He slipped his arm through Manton's. -"Come along now, and we'll talk about it!" Something -in the situation of the moment seemed to exhilarate him. -"So you've decided to make good after all? Well, all -I can say is—I'm delighted. For your own sake, for the -old Colonel's sake, for everybody's sake!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again he paused and looked into his companion's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll admit, Treves, I didn't think you had it in you. -I thought——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton freed his arm from the other's grasp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry, sir," he said, "but you are evidently -making a grievous mistake. My name is Manton——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care what your name is," retorted Gilbert, -irritated a little by what he believed to be the other's -unnecessary reserve. "You can get rid of your name -and call yourself Manton or Jones or Smith or Robinson -or anything you like for all I care! But I know you to -be Bernard Treves, and——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this time a note of firmness appeared in Manton's -voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is not Treves, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gilbert shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You needn't keep up that note with me," he said. -"I'm delighted to find you have the grit to try to make -some sort of reparation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton moistened his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I still don't understand you," he said slowly. "But -all I can do is to assure you I am not Treves. If you -know some one who resembles me and whose name is -Treves, perhaps you would look at me again. To -my knowledge, sir, I have never met you in my life -before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he spoke he took off his hat and turned his face -fully towards the Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment there was silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In this half-darkness," said Gilbert, "you look -absolutely like Bernard Treves to me. You looked like -him in the office. I could see that you had been in the -army the minute you stood at my table." He paused, -and for the first time a slight doubt crept over him. -"The only thing that seems changed to me," he went -on, "is your manner. Come, now, Treves, you know -me well enough to confide in me; that's why I asked -you to speak to me out of the office. Anything you care -to say will go no further. I will accept it as unofficial, -and if you intend to make good I'm prepared to be a -good friend to you. But in the first place admit that -you are Treves; it will make matters much easier."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some moments Manton remained silent. Gilbert -believed that at last he was about to admit his identity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will tell you my history for the past three months, -sir," said the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall respect your confidence," Gilbert answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry to disappoint you, sir, but my name is -really Manton, and, as you guessed when I came into -the office, I have been in the army before. I was at -Scarthoe Head, Battery A. I was a sergeant, and, being -a public school man, was made book-keeper to the acting -adjutant." He fell into silence again, and went on after -a pause. "Something went wrong in regard to the -delivery of stores to the fort. There was a hundred and -forty-five pounds deficit in the accounts. I was held -responsible, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was an intensity and a genuineness in the ring -of the stranger's voice that gripped Gilbert's attention. -He listened with the closest attention, and as Manton -narrated in detail his life during the past six months, -Gilbert's convictions faded and gradually vanished. It -was impossible that the man could have invented the -story, a story so easy of verification. It was some time, -however, before he let Manton perceive his change of -view; then he drew in a deep breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gad!" he exclaimed, "then you are not Treves -after all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on with your story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton obediently resumed his discourse, bringing his -history down to that afternoon and his visit to the -recruiting office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's amazing!" exclaimed Gilbert. "I could have -sworn—— But, after all," he went on, as if communing -with himself, "there's something in your eyes that's -different."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My one ambition in life," concluded Manton, "is to -repay that hundred and forty-five pounds. I wanted to -do it for the honour of the battery. But when three -months had passed and I found I couldn't manage it, -I decided to enlist again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gilbert, when his first surprise had departed, began -to feel an unusual interest in the young man, and as the -two strolled back towards the Captain's hotel, he dropped -his slight tone of authority, but was quite uncommunicative -as to the mysterious and evidently delinquent Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you could come to the office in the morning," he -said at parting, "I think we can get round any difficulties -there may be in regard to your re-enlistment. Do you -mind if I make inquiries about you, merely as a matter -of form?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not in the least, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later Captain Gilbert put through a -trunk call to Scarthoe Fort. The commandant of -Battery A, who was known to Gilbert by name, happened -to be on duty. Gilbert explained that a man giving the -name of John Manton, lately of his battery, had that day -attempted to re-enlist at Ryde.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like all the information you can give me about -him," Gilbert asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of the best," came back the prompt answer from -Scarthoe Fort. "Manton was a favourite here, and -quite unofficially, although matters got a bit muddled, -and the case went against him, none of us believed him -guilty. A first-rate gunner and white clear through. I -shall be glad to know that he's back in the army again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gilbert rang off, and all that night the amazing -resemblance between his friend Treves and Manton -occupied his thoughts. As a result of this preoccupation, -and some time during the small hours, a startling idea -came to him, first as a nebulous, vague possibility, then -as an entirely practicable and simple solution of a -difficulty. The thought was this: why should not the -singular resemblance between Treves and Manton be -turned to good account? Manton had said he wanted -more than anything in the world to repay the money -due to the battery. Treves, on his part, wanted—— Gilbert -broke off here, but his thoughts continued to -pursue the new, startling idea that had come to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gad!" he exclaimed, as the morning broke, "I -believe the plan would achieve miracles. If Treves got -away under another name he might rouse himself. He -might become a man again." ...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the morning Manton came into the office looking -bright, vigorous and full of vitality. Gilbert rose and -examined him. Yes, there was a difference, a slight, -almost undetectable difference. Something in the -eyes—nothing more than that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you convinced now, sir?" asked the young man, -smiling and standing at attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am quite convinced, Manton, and I have a -proposition to make to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took his visitor into an inner room, and, seated -there, he unfolded a little of the plan that had come to -him during the watches of the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Manton," he said, "I must get authority before I -can accept you as a recruit, but in the meantime," he -went on, "I have been thinking of our talk of last night. -I like you for trying to earn that hundred and forty-five -pounds, and they gave a good account of you at Scarthoe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know who had the money, sir, but I'd do -anything in the world to pay it back for the honour of -the battery."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Gilbert paused, then took a letter from the -pocket of his tunic. The envelope was addressed: -"Lieutenant Bernard Treves, 15, Sade Road, Lymington."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gilbert had written this letter earlier that morning. -With a certain air of formality he handed it to John -Manton and instructed him to deliver it to Lieutenant -Treves that evening after dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a plan in regard to you, Manton, that I think -will work out to your entire satisfaction. I won't tell -you what it is until you have seen my friend Treves. -But when Treves has read this letter he may, or may -not, think it worth his while to pay you the money you -need. If he doesn't, please come back to me to-morrow, -and we will go on with the matter of your re-enlistment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In case Lieutenant Treves decides favourably, sir, -what must I do to earn the money?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will learn that from him," answered the Captain. -"Go to-night, as unobtrusively as you can," he said. -He rose, held out his hand and gripped Manton's fingers -cordially in his.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-ii"><span class="large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That evening, when John Manton stepped off the boat -at Lymington, a heavy summer rain was falling. In the -town itself the streets appeared to be deserted, and it -was some minutes before he encountered a workman -hurrying home, with upturned collar. He inquired the -way to Sade Road, and five minutes later came upon a -row of small workmen's cottages with little gardens in -front. Counting the houses until he came to number -fifteen, he entered the garden gate, and, striking a match, -discovered that he had halted at the right address. A -woman came to the door in answer to his knock, and -stood in the dark, looking out at him, opening the door -only a few cautious inches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, with collar turned up and hat drawn over his -brows, answered that he brought a letter for Lieutenant -Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better go up to him, then," said the woman, -drawing open the door. "It's the front room at the top -of the stairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a candle at the stair-head, and Manton -passed her, ascended the single flight of steps and halted -at the door. The smallness of the house, the shabbiness -of the woman who had admitted him, depressed his spirits. -He liked Captain Gilbert, with his sleek and buoyant -confidence. This plan of his suddenly struck Manton -as the wildest piece of quixotism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted his hand and knocked quietly upon the door. -A voice from within instantly invited him to enter. A -moment later he stood in a small lamp-lit bedroom. -The room was littered with trunks, suit-cases, boxes and -a general confusion of other articles. The close air -reeked with the smell of Turkish cigarettes, and at a -table near the window, with a lamp before him, sat -a young man, busily occupied scribbling figures on a -sheet of paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bernard Treves, whose back was towards the door, -wore mufti, and Manton, in the moment of entering, -noticed that he was well dressed and that his hair was -smooth and dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If that's my supper, Mrs. Dodge," said Treves, "put -it on the bed." He spoke without looking round, took -a drink of whisky from a glass at his side, then went on -with his figures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, standing near the door, coughed to attract his -attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo!" exclaimed Treves, and turned swiftly. In -an instant at sight of Manton his expression changed. -He sprang to his feet in what appeared to be a state of -terror, and stood staring at his visitor without uttering -a word. With brows drawn together, he passed a hand -over his eyes, then he turned, and, lifting his lamp from -the table, held it aloft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you?" he demanded savagely, "and what -the devil do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Manton took the letter from his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have come with a letter from your friend, Captain -Gilbert," he answered quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With his eyes still fixed on Manton, Treves lowered -the lamp and replaced it on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A letter," he repeated, "from Gilbert? Give it to -me." He held out his hand. "God!" he exclaimed, -as he snatched the envelope, "coming in like that, you -gave me a devil of a start. I thought that I was looking -into my own face! Come nearer; come into the light."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton advanced farther into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose these figures I've been poring over," went -on Treves, "have made my eyes a bit wrong, but I've -never seen anything like it." His nerve was gradually -returning, and his astonishment was turning to -amusement at the intensity of the resemblance between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look into the mirror there," he said. "Don't you -think the likeness is amazing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton looked into the mirror, and then again at the -young man, who had replaced the lamp on the table, -and was tearing open Gilbert's envelope. As he -scrutinised Treves's face and figure he, too, was astonished. -He began to understand now something of Captain -Gilbert's strange behaviour of the day before. But -Manton had never been occupied over much with his -own appearance; he took himself for granted, and after -the first momentary flash of curiosity he thought no more -of the resemblance. Besides, there was, after all, a -difference. Treves wore a black moustache; his -complexion was flushed, whereas Manton, as a result of gas -poisoning at the Front, was still pale. Treves's eyes, -moreover, were evasive and furtive in expression. -Nevertheless, it would have been difficult to tell the two men -apart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Sergeant," Treves said. "Help yourself -to a drink." He waved towards the whisky bottle and -a siphon on the table. Upon Manton refusing the drink, -Treves pushed towards him a box of cigarettes. Then -read Captain Gilbert's missive through a second and a -third time, and seemed to be considering it deeply with -brows drawn together. "Do you know what is in this -letter?" he questioned at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Gilbert told you nothing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing whatever, beyond saying that you might be -willing to make some sort of offer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he makes an extraordinary suggestion," went -on Treves, leaning back in his chair. "It's all brought -about by your resemblance to me." His eyes sought -the letter again. "He tells me you are a public school -boy and all that, and gives me here an outline of your -little trouble at Scarthoe Head. Well, for certain reasons -known to himself and to me, he thinks you may be able -to make yourself useful to me. That is," he added, -"if you are willing to undertake a somewhat delicate -piece of work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton looked inquiringly at Treves; he was not sure -of the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you will let me know the nature of the work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The fact of the matter is, Manton," Treves resumed, -dropping his voice confidentially, "I am in want of help. -Owing to certain peculiar circumstances, I want -somebody to make use of my name and my personality for a -short time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took up his whisky and Manton observed an almost -imperceptible tremor of his fingers as they closed about -the glass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, your extraordinary likeness to me, and the -fact that you are in need of cash—well, do you see the -point?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid not," remarked Manton quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves made a gesture of impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's pretty plain, I should think. You need cash, -I need some one to step into my shoes; somebody who -must take the name of Bernard Treves. Now, do you -understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your suggestion is that I should pass myself off as -you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's it exactly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His visitor stared at him in amazement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't see," said he, "any advantage in that for -either of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps not. How much money are you in need -of?" Treves inquired pointedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nearly one hundred and fifty pounds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves whistled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lot of money," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Manton agreed with him, and for a space there -was silence. John's hopes that had risen fell to -zero.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Treves poured himself another glass of whisky, -and drank it down. He wiped his lips with a silk -handkerchief from his breast pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," he said at length; "carry out my wishes -and you shall have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you are serious?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was never more serious in my life. You are to -take everything that is mine, and in return you shall have -the money you need."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A vague doubt stirred in Manton's mind; then he -thought of Gilbert. The Captain was most obviously -a man of honour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I accept, can I still enlist?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Enlist by all means."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me to be an easy way of earning the -money, but what about your rank in the army?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves flashed a suspicious glance at him; there was a -questioning expression in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you accept my offer we can go into details later, -and as regards my rank, I—I happen to be leaving the -army."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case," said Manton, "I am much obliged to -you; the money will be a great boon to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You accept?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like a bird!" smiled Manton. "But there is one -thing I would like to ask."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The terms are generous enough," he said, "but -what is to happen to my name; is that to disappear too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bernard Treves lit a cigarette, and looked at him with -the expression of one from whose mind has been lifted a -heavy burden. He made an expressive gesture with his -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For the time being," he answered, "the name of -Sergeant Manton will vanish into thin air."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-iii"><span class="large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Six days later Manton found himself once more in -Lymington, alone in Treves's lodgings, in the crowded -room, littered with that young man's desirable -possessions. Those possessions were, for the time being, his -own; even Treves's name was his, for, carrying out his -bargain, Treves had vanished from the scene. Again -Manton fell to wondering why the other had been so -anxious to dispossess himself of name and identity. -There was nothing criminal in the matter, he was assured -of that, otherwise Captain Gilbert would not have had a -hand in it. The idea that the Lieutenant had suffered -from shell-shock, and desired to hide himself from all who -knew him for a time until he had recovered, came to -Manton, and struck him as feasible. He had himself -known quite a number of peculiar manifestations of this -particularly mysterious disease. In any case, whatever -Treves's reasons, it mattered little to Manton at that -moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have simply got to make myself act as Treves, -and to do the best I can in Treves's shoes for the time -being."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few days earlier the young man had written him a -letter in which he had said: "Use everything of mine as -if it were your own. It is only fair if you get the kicks -meant for me, you should get the ha'pence as well. I -have few relations, and none of them are likely to bother -you. When we shall meet again I do not know, but, in -the meantime, </span><em class="italics">au revoir</em><span>. I wonder what you will feel -like this time next year?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, in the quiet of the room, took some considerable -time trying to realise his new circumstances, and -gradually the sense of strangeness and mystery that -enveloped him began to fade away. In all his life -Manton had been used to the buffets and hard knocks of -Fate; he began to wonder what his immediate future in -Treves's shoes held for him. Both parents having died -in India, he had been educated from a small fund in the -hands of a guardian, first in Germany, and later at Rugby. -After that he spent two years at Bonn. His resources -were at an end, and the guardian, feeling that he had done -his duty, left him to fend for himself. A period of hard -going had followed, until the war broke out, whereupon -he precipitately enlisted in the first hundred thousand. -If he had waited a little longer a commission would have -been thrust upon him as it was upon all public school -men in any way eligible. Treves's past, Manton -surmised, had not been of that nature, for despite the -poorness of the young man's lodgings, all his belongings -were of the costliest order. And all these belongings -were now his, Manton's, to do with as he liked. The -idea came to him to write to Captain Gilbert, thanking -him for the amicable intervention that had wrought -this change in his circumstances. He sat down, drew -forth a sheet of Treves's notepaper, and had taken up -a pen when a knock came at the door, and the landlady -appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd like some tea, sir, wouldn't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, thank you," answered the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've dusted the room every day, sir, since you've -been away," said the landlady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's exactly as I left it," responded he truthfully. -She was looking at him across the width of the little -room, but there was no doubt or curiosity in her gaze; -she had accepted him instantly on his arrival that day -as Bernard Treves, and even now, looking at him full and -closely, no thought of deception entered her mind. "I -wonder what she'd think," he pondered inwardly, "if -Treves were to come in behind her now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no such dramatic event occurred; the landlady -brought up his tea, and later furnished him with a bottle -of whisky, a siphon of soda, and a glass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning, when she cleared these things away, -she was surprised to find that no more than one peg of -whisky had been taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wasn't you feeling well, sir, last night?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite," answered Manton, who was busy with an -excellent breakfast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went away wondering. Until that day she had -never known Mr. Treves to drink less than half a bottle -of whisky in the course of an evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the morning John went for a stroll in the town, -and on his return the landlady handed him a letter -which had arrived by the post in his absence. Manton -took it up to his room, and noticed that the handwriting -was sprawling and shaky. Twice he read the -superscription, "Bernard Treves, Esq., 15, Sade Road, -Lymington." He hesitated several minutes before -breaking open the envelope. He felt as though he were -stepping beyond the pale of decency in opening the -letter addressed to another man, then he recalled Treves's -admonition, "Everything that is mine is yours." He -tore open the envelope. Within was a single sheet of -paper headed, "Heatherfield Grange, Freshwater." Manton -quickly scanned the contents.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Dear Bernard,—They tell me you are in hiding, as -well you may be, but if you have a spark of decency -left in you, you will come here to me at the first -opportunity. There are things I have to say to you</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">You have dishonoured and disgraced the family name, -but I have still a faint hope that you will retrieve yourself -at the last moment.—Your affectionate father,</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>"R.T."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For many minutes John Manton sat staring at this -letter, staring from the stiff, sprawling writing out into the -little street and back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that day he pondered upon the missive he had -received from Treves's father. He wondered what it was -Treves had done, and why he should have been skulking -in hiding at that address? A sense of uneasiness swept -over him, and was succeeded by a violent curiosity. For -the first time he felt vividly interested in Treves and -Treves's history, and at the same time doubtful and -uneasy. Unpleasant and difficult situations presented -themselves to his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning, as a result of a decision he had taken, -he was on his way to Freshwater by midday. At three -o'clock in the afternoon he walked through the town and -out to Heatherfield Grange, which he discovered to be a -large, many-chimneyed, many-windowed Elizabethan -mansion, standing in a spacious, heavily-wooded park. -The mansion itself was approached by a long carriage -drive, too much overshadowed by trees, and when Manton -reached the lodge gates a bent old man, who was sweeping -leaves from the path, hurried forward and drew open the -gate for him to enter. The man drew himself up and -saluted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good day, Master Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton nodded and smiled. As he walked along the -drive towards the grand old house, his pulse-beat -quickened. After all, had he a right to act the part; was -it honourable and fair that he should thus step into -another man's shoes? The under-gardener had taken -him for Bernard Treves; the whole world evidently was -prepared to believe in the deception. But there was -Treves's father to face. Naturally Treves's father would -detect an impostor in a moment. But was he an -impostor; was it not probable that the elder Treves also -was aware of what had occurred?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The broad front door of the mansion was opened to -him. A white-haired butler, with pouches under his -eyes, and a general air of world-weariness, looked at him -from the threshold, and slowly lifted his eyes in surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good afternoon, sir," said the butler. He took -Manton's hat and stick, and deferentially stood aside. -"Your father will indeed be pleased and surprised to -see you, sir," he said, as he closed the door. His manner -was studiously civil, and yet somehow Manton felt a -lack of cordiality towards himself in the butler's tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Possibly he's a privileged servant," he thought, -"and does not like Mr. Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is—is the Colonel?" he asked after a moment's -hesitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the library, sir, as usual. Will you go up at once?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes." He wondered consumedly where the Colonel's -room might be, and experienced a pleasant thrill of -impending event. He attempted a little harmless finesse -to discover the way. "Perhaps you will go first and tell -him I am here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir." The butler looked at him meditatively -for a moment, then went to a side-table and took -up a silver salver containing three letters and a telegram. -Manton seized the moment to survey the heavy splendour -of the dark antique furniture, the wide spaces of the hall -and the richness of the rugs scattered over the polished -floor. High above the mantelshelf hung a portrait in oils -of a personage in eighteenth century costume. Descending -to the middle of the hall was a wide oak balustraded -staircase, carpeted in scarlet, a single flight ascended to -the first floor, then branched to right and left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your letters, sir." The butler was standing at -Manton's elbow with the silver salver extended. John -took up the three letters and the telegram. A renewed -and intensified disinclination to pry into Bernard Treves's -affairs seized him. He was about to put letters and -telegram into his pocket when the butler spoke in his -firm, polite voice. There was a note of reproach in his -tone, however, "The telegram came two days ago, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" exclaimed Manton. And under the bleak -eye of the butler he disinterred it from his pocket, tore -open the envelope, and read the contents. The telegram -had been dispatched from Camden Town, and ran:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Wire when you can come. Of course I will forgive -you.</em><span>—ELAINE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He was conscious, as he read the words, that the -butler's eyes were fixed steadily upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the old servant turned and preceded him towards -the broad staircase. They ascended to the first landing, -and here the butler wheeled to the right and halted -before a double green baize door. The elderly man -knocked, paused for a moment, then pushed open the -door, and stepped into a room lined with books, a spacious, -luxuriously furnished apartment, with two mullioned -windows overlooking the park. John, following him, -saw him cross to a deep, high-backed arm-chair near the -hearth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Bernard's here, sir," he announced, standing -before this chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a movement in the chair, then a tall, -soldierly, grey-haired man revealed himself, leaning on -a stick, and looked across at Manton. He looked at him -with a cold, inimical gaze, and until the butler had closed -the door and departed, did not utter a word, Then he -spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you've come, you dog, have you!" The almost -savage intensity of dislike and contempt in his tone -struck the young man like a blow in the face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I got your letter——" he began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I found out where you were. Well," he -went on, harshly, "there is no need for us to waste -compliments on each other. We will settle the business that -is to be settled at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved shakily towards a desk in the middle of the -room, using his stick as a support. Manton, seeing his -frailty, hurried forward to assist him, but the old man -drew himself erect, raised his stick, and flashed a look at -him of utter repulsion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not dare to lay a hand on me," he said violently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he reached his desk he seated himself in a big -swivel-chair, drew out a drawer, and flung certain -documents on the table. From under his eyebrows he -glowered at Manton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down," he commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John moved to the table side and occupied a chair near -his elbow. Among a pile of documents Colonel Treves -searched for a certain typewritten sheet. He found it at -length, a long, yellow piece of official paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen to this," he commanded. From the table -beside him he took up a square reading glass, and -deciphered the typewritten paper with faded grey eyes. -"This," he vouchsafed, raising his eyes, "is from my old, -good friend, General Whiston." He paused a moment, -and John seized the opportunity to intervene, "May I -say a word, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," thundered Treves. Then he read aloud in a -voice vibrant with emotion:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">My dear Treves,—Your boy had every chance.... It -was the merest fluke in the world that he escaped as -easily as he did. He is not of the right stuff, and my -condolences are with you. I wish I could suggest -something, but I cannot. I know, old friend, what a tragedy -this must be to you——</em><span>"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Colonel stopped abruptly, flung down his reading -glass, and looked into Manton's face. "Well?" he -demanded. "What do you think of that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton said nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you read between the lines?" questioned the -elder man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It suggests," said John, after a moment's hesitation, -"that the punishment meted out to—to me, was a light one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see you are as evasive as ever," retorted Colonel -Treves. He turned and smote the open letter twice with -the back of his hand. "In this letter, General Whiston," -he measured his words slowly, "tells me, by implication, -that you are guilty of cowardice in the face of the -enemy—you, a Treves!" Then in a moment the anger that -had vivified him seemed to fade; he appeared to Manton -to become suddenly old, bowed, and pitiful, the expression -on his face was one of anguish. The dishonour that had -befallen his name was no less than torture to him, but -once again he recovered himself, and gripped the arms of -his chair with both white-knuckled hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know the just punishment for cowardice in the -face of the enemy?" He was leaning towards Manton -now; his mouth twitched, but there was a blaze in the -old grey eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it, sir," said John quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel drew in his breath slowly and sat erect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you know. And, having escaped that punishment, -and knowing yourself to be guilty, you skulk in -hiding! You fail to seize the one chance that is open to -you to redeem the past!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the chance?" inquired Manton, forgetting -himself for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel stared at him in astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The chance of re-enlistment, of course. Instead of -doing that," he went on, "you write me a whining letter, -saying you can't stand the trenches, you can't face it, -your nerves—bah! nerves, my God, and you a Treves!" He -hurled these words forth with a contempt and loathing -that was like a blow in the face. But Manton noticed -that he was breathing heavily. The emotional intensity -of his feelings was wearing on him, and the younger man -felt a sudden tenderness towards this old, stricken, bitterly -disappointed father.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it too late now, sir?" he asked quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it too late for me to make good?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Talk!" exclaimed the Colonel, in bitter derision; -"always talk with you. You don't mean that any more -than you meant any of the lying promises you made to -me in the past. You have always been a liar! A liar, a -spendthrift, and a fool—and now, added to all these -things, to your gambling and your profligacy, you've -finished as a——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused, and Manton ventured:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In regard to a way out, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel looked at him with renewed ferocity, then -his expression slowly changed. For some seconds he was -silent, and, without a glance at Manton, he began to -fumble at a drawer. He drew it open at length, and -groped in its interior. His hand shook visibly, but there -was something in his attitude, some strange intensity of -purpose, that riveted Manton's attention. Presently -the Colonel discovered the object he sought, and revealed -from the depths of the drawer an automatic pistol.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you have a shred of honour left you will know -what to do," he said grimly. He reached out, and laid -the weapon on the corner of the desk at the young man's -side.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-iv"><span class="large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Then Colonel Treves rose slowly to his feet, took up his -stick, and moved towards the door of the room. With -his hand on the door knob, he pointed his stick at the -weapon on the table. Manton had remained motionless; -utterly at a loss. Now the old soldier's meaning gradually -revealed itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You want me to take this and——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And," broke in Colonel Treves, "use it to recover -such shreds of honour as are left to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drew open the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," said Manton, taking the pistol from the -desk. He slipped the weapon into his hip pocket. The -Colonel halted, looking back at him in surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you going to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going to use it," answered John, "if occasion -arises."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw the Colonel hesitate. Some deep emotion -seemed to stir within him. Then with an effort he turned -swiftly, and was about to hurry from the room. Manton -strode towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was another way out?" he questioned, rapidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was, and you failed to take it. You whined -that you couldn't face the army again—you, a Treves! -In the past, before my time and yours," went on the -Colonel, suddenly violent again, "there have been Treves -who have been fools and spendthrifts; there may have -been Treves who kept their honour none too clean—but -never in our long line has there been a coward until you -came, until you grew up to be a curse to my existence, -and made my life a shame to me!" His lip trembled, -the old, proud head was held aloft, but a world of -desolation dwelt in the faded eyes. On a sudden impulse, John -gripped him by the hand; he could feel the old man -resisting him, seeking to free himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to make you a promise, sir," he said. "I am -going to Ryde the first thing in the morning. I have a -friend there who will help me to get back into the army."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel narrowed his eyes and tried to read the -expression on his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a new ring in your voice, Bernard," he -said, after a moment's pause, "but I cannot trust you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and walked away. John saw him go, using -his stick for support, and felt a renewed pity for the old, -broken father. He spent that night at an inn in Freshwater, -and took the first train next morning for Ryde. -Here at the recruiting office he presented himself before -Captain Gilbert. This plump and comfortable officer -was busy at his work when John stepped into the office. -His shadow fell upon Captain Gilbert's desk, and the elder -man looked up quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Great Scott!" he exclaimed. He stared wide-eyed -at Manton for a moment, and John broke into a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see you mistook me for Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did," said Gilbert, leaning forward and looking into -his face. "The resemblance is really closer than I -thought at first. Well," he said, "you've done your -part of the bargain splendidly. You earned the money -you needed, and you've lifted a great load off the minds of -several deserving persons, including myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to know how I've done that," said -Manton. "It seems to me the only service I have -rendered has been to myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You forget the battery at Scarthoe Head. You -made up the deficiency, and the Colonel's delighted with -you, Manton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks to you—and young Treves—I was able to put -matters straight there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have probably saved young Treves from going -utterly to the devil," said Gilbert. "I'll tell you about -that later; I'm busy till one o'clock, but come to my -hotel then and we'll have lunch together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I am here on business myself!" protested -Manton. He was feeling cheerful and particularly -satisfied with the course of events so far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is your particular business?" inquired Gilbert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to get back into the army."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gilbert looked at him for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course—of course," he said hastily. "I'd -forgotten that; we will discuss the subject at lunch -time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Until lunch time Manton was free to stroll upon the -pier and consider his situation. He felt a deep curiosity -to know what had happened to the man whose clothes he -was wearing; to Treves, whose money he was jingling -in his pocket, whose excellent cigarettes he had smoked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At a quarter to one he threw his cigarette end over the -rail into the water, and turning, made his way to the -hotel where Gilbert was staying. He found the Captain -already there, busy mixing a salad at a table in the -corner of a small dining-room. There were half a -dozen tables in the room, none of which were as yet -occupied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Manton," invited Captain Gilbert, as John -entered. "I always mix my own salads. What will -you have? There's the menu."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John chose a dish and accepted his host's invitation to -divide with him a bottle of Chablis. During the meal -Captain Gilbert talked on general matters. But at -length the conversation appeared to drift round to the -subject of Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old Treves took you for granted, eh?" asked the Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His eyesight isn't good," answered John, "but he -suspected nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Gates, the butler?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He called me 'Mr. Bernard' the moment he saw me. -Also, he gave me Treves's letters and a telegram. I didn't -read the letters, but the telegram——" Manton put his -hand in his inner pocket. "Perhaps I'd better hand them -all over to you now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so fast," Gilbert said, pushing the letters and the -telegram back across the table towards Manton. "As a -matter of fact, I can't hand them to Treves just now, as I -have persuaded him to go to a nursing home for a time. -A very good friend of his father's, General Whiston, -recommended that something of the sort should be done -with him months ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves did not give me the impression of being -actually ill," Manton observed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He wasn't, but his nerves were all to rags. He was -in such a state of acute neurasthenia that I expected him -to lay hands on himself any minute. Anyway, where he -is he will be safe for a while; he will be out of his father's -way and the discipline of this particular nursing home -may pull him together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John lit a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully. There -was evidently something on Gilbert's mind, something of -which he wished to unburden himself. John waited, -and at last the elder man broke the silence again:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Manton," he said earnestly, "I want you to do me a -particular favour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John inquired the nature of the favour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you," went on the Captain, "to sustain -Treves's personality for a little longer. He is in good -hands in the nursing home, and for the time being has -vanished from the public gaze." Gilbert paused, and -again appeared to hesitate. What he had to say was -very difficult to frame in words. He wished to hint at -something that was the merest suspicion in his own mind. -Two or three times he was on the verge of putting his -thoughts into words, and each time the effort appeared too -much for his gift of expression. Finally he leaned back -in his chair. "Manton," he said, "I cannot tell you -all I think and suspect, but I will give you such -confidences as I can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused for a moment, then went on: "Since Treves -came back from France, he appears to have got into the -hands of undesirable company. One of his rooted ideas, -possibly the result of his drug habit, is that some one is -watching him, and that, for some reason or other, his life -is in danger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John listened quietly; then, when the other had -finished, he observed seriously: "So far as I see it, you -want me to continue my impersonation of Treves until he -is cured and comes out of the nursing home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is it, exactly," said Gilbert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are putting a good deal of trust in me," answered -John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that Gilbert stretched out his hand and gripped -John's fingers heartily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Manton," he said, "you and I are in this together for -the good of the Cause. Not only for Treves and the old -Colonel, but perhaps for bigger issues."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't get your meaning," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't ask it, trust me as I trust you. And now to get -back to the matter in hand," he said, resuming his -ordinary tone. "Perhaps it would be worth your while -to open those two letters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As John obediently tore open the envelopes and read -the contents of the letters, Gilbert called the waiter and -paid for the two lunches. One of the letters was a -typewritten screed from a quack doctor in which he claimed to -cure any victim of the drug habit within the space of three -months. John experienced a real feeling of pity for -Treves as he read the quack's fraudulent promises. The -second letter contained two lines only on a single sheet -of paper with the printed heading: "208, St. George's -Square, S.W." The letter ran:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Dear Treves,—I must see you at once. You understand; -it is essential that you should come to me without -delay. To-morrow night at nine o'clock I shall expect -you.—Yours,</em><span> G. MANNERS."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Manton handed both letters to Gilbert, who studied -them carefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't a notion who G. Manners is," mused the -Captain when he had read the letter through a second -time, "but he may be one of the friends Treves ought to -get rid of, and for that reason I should advise you to call -on him to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton was thoughtful for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What if he discusses matters I know nothing about? -Treves's past life is a blank to me:"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come," said Gilbert, touching him lightly on the arm, -"you are playing a part; you are not such a fool as not -to play it well. I admit there are certain little precautions -you may find it wise to take. In the first place, you -might have a go at copying Treves's degenerate -handwriting. You might also keep in mind that Treves is -over-strung, lacking in will-power, and so much a victim -of the cocaine habit that he would do anything, short of -murder, to get the drug when the craving is upon him. -As to Treves's past life, it seems to me that a victim of the -drug habit can be afflicted with convenient lapses of -memory when occasion arises."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton glanced at the Captain's pleasant, fat face, and -the thought crossed his mind that there was a good deal -more cleverness behind Gilbert's amiable exterior than he -had at first realised. He forthwith decided to go to -town that night. London always held a vivid attraction -for him, and he had not had the pleasure of visiting it -since his journey through its streets in an ambulance -on his return from France. Some weeks in hospital had -followed that visit, then had come his transference to -the R.G.A. at Scarthoe Head. And now, with returned -health and in new, strange and portentous circumstances, -he was to visit London again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Manners, the mysterious, imperative writer of the -letter, had demanded to see Treves at nine o'clock. The -hour of John's arrival was eight, and he was in a hurry. -He was impatient to plunge into whatever adventure -awaited him. Without bothering to engage a room for -the night, he deposited his bag in the cloak-room at -Waterloo Station, and set out to find St. George's Square. -He arrived at the corner of the square, the Embankment -corner, at precisely eight-thirty. The square's decorous, -solemn-looking houses with heavy pillared porticoes -struck him as gloomy in the extreme. The only -individual upon the long strip of pavement which ran the -length of the west side of the square was himself. His -footfalls appeared to echo with inordinate resonance in -the areas as he made his way towards Number 208.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not his intention to ring the bell immediately. -In the first place he wanted to reconnoitre the house, to -see if it were possible to judge of the house's occupants -by its exterior. This thought occupied his mind, when a -taxi sped into the square and drew to a halt within -half a dozen yards of him. The taxi had stopped behind -him, and its occupant had alighted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right; half an hour," said a curt voice in -a cultured accent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chauffeur nodded, and slammed the taxi door. -The young man who had alighted hurried forward, -passed John, and continued down the square. Without -paying over especial attention, John noticed that he was -tall, that he wore a morning coat of distinguished cut, -that his light grey felt hat was of expensive quality, and -that the pearl in his tie-pin was also, if genuine, of -exceptional value. He was of John's height and age, -fair-haired, blue-eyed, and with a slight tooth-brush -moustache. His features were large and heavy-boned, -without being harsh. Two things John noticed as he -hurried past; one was that he carried a silk-lined light -overcoat over his arm, and the other that he wore a -"service rendered" badge on the lapel of his coat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Invalided from the army," thought John. "All the -same, he doesn't look as if there was much the matter with -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John continued to walk until he reached the corner of -the square, then he turned, and as he did so he saw the -tall young man flit up the steps of a house a considerable -distance away. John fixed his eyes on the portico of -this particular house and walked towards it. And as he -neared the door he realised that the young man had -entered the very house at which he also had an -appointment—Number 208. For a moment Manton paused, -hesitated, then passed on. Before making the plunge into -whatever adventure awaited him, he wanted still further -to consider the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime the stranger, who had alighted from -the taxi, was now within the hall of Mr. Manners's -residence. He had opened the door with a Yale key -and had admitted himself. The hall was narrow and -somewhat dark, and the young man laid his gold-headed -cane noisily on a little table, and began to draw off his -grey gloves. A door at the back of the house opened -noiselessly, and a sombre-faced, sallow-complexioned -butler advanced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Manners is in, of course?" demanded the young -man in a voice that rasped a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Herr Baron, in the library."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The visitor nodded curtly, ran swiftly up the stairs, -turned to the left, and opened a door on the first landing. -He entered a room where the curtains had already been -drawn. Two electric chandeliers, one on either side of -the hearth, illuminated the apartment. A large bookcase -occupied one wall of the room, and in the middle of -the floor was a business-like table, scattered with papers. -On the table was a green-shaded reading lamp, and by -its illumination a man sat at work busily writing. He -looked up as the stranger entered, then sprang quickly -to his feet. He was a tall man of fifty, uncomfortably -stout, with a fleshy neck that protruded over his collar -at the back. The big man's iron-grey hair was short, -his nose broad and short, and his lips thick and pouting. -Despite his inelegance of figure, he was dressed, with an -attempt at smartness, in a well-cut frock coat and -newly-creased trousers. His heavy eyebrows shielded his eyes, -hiding his expression from any but the closest scrutiny. -For a man of his excessive bulk he showed extreme -activity on his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't expect you to-night," he said. He placed -a chair near the desk for the younger man to seat himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His visitor, however, stood still and fixed him with a -direct, cold stare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Manners," he demanded, "what have you to -say for yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners shrugged his heavy shoulders, and displayed -the palms of his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, Herr Baron," he said, "except that I have -done my best. Won't you sit down?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man took a cigarette from his case, and -lit it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your best is damned bad!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I exercised such judgment as I have," returned the -other, in a tone of abasement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judgment alone is of no avail," retorted the other. -"What we want is aggressive action. We don't get that -from you—you talk, and think, and scheme——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other ventured a faint note of protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was chosen, Herr Baron——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want to hear your history," returned the -younger man, coldly. "I want to know about this -expedition that is being prepared by the Eastern -Command, that has been under preparation for the past six -weeks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I gave you such figures, Herr Baron, as I was able to -collect."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man crossed to the hearth and stood leaning -with his back against the mantelshelf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't it occur to you," he demanded, after a -moment's silence, "that figures are only a detail? -Figures are something any fool could gather. What -Berlin wants to know is, what is this expedition's -objective, where is it bound for, also what port it sails from, -and when?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder German—Gottfried Manwitz by name, -though he figured in the London directory as Godfrey -Manners—turned nervously towards his desk and began -to search among the papers. An expression of relief -crossed his face as he took up a particular sheet of -paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the date, Herr Baron," he said, "when the -expedition will sail, and also the place of departure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man took the sheet, scrutinised it with -frowning brows for a moment, then lifted his eyes and -looked into Manwitz's fat face with cold, contemptuous -gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excellent!" he said, cuttingly; "wonderful and -utterly useless! You provide Headquarters with all -this detail, and fail to give the one vital, useful -piece of information—the sole item that Headquarters -requires."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very difficult, Herr Baron," apologised Manners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You and I, Manwitz," retorted the younger man, -"are retained in London for the sole purpose of -overcoming difficulties." He paused a moment, and -looked complacently for the first time in the elder man's -face. "For instance, I myself have overcome quite a -number of difficulties."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, that is true, Herr Baron," conceded Manners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect you to do the same. Since you let the -</span><em class="italics">Inflexible</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Invincible</em><span> vanish to the Falkland -Islands without any one of us being aware of the fact, -Berlin doesn't think so highly of your attainments as -before the war. For my part," he went on, "I find you -too much of a dreamer." He paused; some one had -knocked lightly on the door of the room. "Open it, -Manwitz!" he commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big man crossed lightly to the door and drew it -open. Upon the threshold stood the sombre-countenanced -butler. The tall young man from the hearth called aloud -to him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Conrad, what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Treves, Herr Baron, to see Herr Manners."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Conrad," said Manners. He closed the -door and turned to his superior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is one of my instruments, Herr Baron, arrived -to-night from the Isle of Wight. You approved of him -when I gave you his </span><em class="italics">dossier</em><span> a month ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is the British officer who was cashiered," returned -the other, swiftly. "Takes drugs, and generally gone to -pieces?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The same, Herr Baron."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he quite"—he paused—"er, quite amenable to -your orders?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I flatter myself that I can do a good deal with him," -Manwitz answered, with pride. "He comes here for -cocaine, but he is of good English stock, and there are -moments when he tries to shake himself free of me. For -the last three weeks, as a matter of fact, he has -disappeared entirely. I had great difficulty, Herr Baron, -rediscovering his hiding place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't like that!" returned the Baron. "How do -you know what he has been up to in the meantime?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was silent for a minute; then he looked with his cold, -pale eyes into his elder's face. "Manwitz!" he exclaimed -suddenly, "this may be the man for our business!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first time a flicker of triumph lit in Manners's -eyes. He went to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and -produced a single sheet of notepaper. "This is a letter in -his own writing, Herr Baron, signed by himself. I think -it is satisfactory, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The younger man took the sheet and fixed his keen -eyes upon it.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">My dear Friend,</em><span>" ran the note, "</span><em class="italics">the s.s. 'Polidor' -is due to leave H—— at four o'clock to-morrow, Tuesday -afternoon. I had this on absolute authority; you can -rely on it.</em><span>"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The tall, fair-haired man came to the end of the brief -note, and his hard mouth tightened; then he read the -postscript: "</span><em class="italics">Don't forget the tabloids!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked up slowly, and fixed his keen gaze upon -Manwitz's apoplectic countenance. Baron Rathenau, who -had taken his degree at Oxford, who spoke English like -an English gentleman, and possessed, on the surface, the -manners of an English gentleman, was quite five years -older than he looked. His brain was subtle and keen, -and in the service of the Fatherland he was hard and -ruthless as steel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have done not so badly here, Manwitz," -conceded the Baron. "This letter alone"—he folded -Treves's note carefully—"this letter alone would bring -our young friend, Lieutenant Treves, into the presence of -a firing party within forty-eight hours." He paused a -moment. "Our English enemies," he went on, "are -unpleasantly hasty in regard to spies. But when it -comes to traitors, the celerity with which they put a man -face to the wall in their Tower of London, it is marvellous!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had folded the note carefully, and lifting his light -fawn coat, he slipped Treves's note into the inner pocket, -then he flung the coat back again on the chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll see our young neurasthenic friend at once," he -said. "You will leave him to me, Manwitz." He -turned and pressed the bell twice. When the footman -presently appeared at the door, Baron Rathenau was -standing with his back to the mantelshelf, toying with a -cigarette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring up Mr. Treves, Conrad," he said, briefly.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-v"><span class="large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Do I introduce you as Captain Cherriton, Herr -Baron?" asked Manwitz, when Conrad had closed the -door and departed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the Baron. "I find the name of the -poor, dead Captain Cherriton an excellent recommendation -in even the best of homes." He smiled his somewhat -derisive smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later the door opened and John Manton -stepped into the room. Manners rose and held out his -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Treves," he said, "you have been away -from me a very long time." He was thinking to himself -that Treves carried himself a little better than usual; -his gaze was more direct, his handgrip firmer. However, -there was no suspicion in his eyes as he turned towards -the younger man at the hearth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Cherriton," he said, "this is a young friend -of mine, Mr. Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Rathenau's light blue eyes widened, -and then narrowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've met before, Mr. Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the square, half an hour ago. I saw you come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, yes," returned the Baron. "My good -friend, Mr. Manners, has been telling me about you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope he had something complimentary to say," -smiled John Manton. He was thinking to himself: -"There is no doubt at all in my mind that this big, fat -man, Mr. Manners, is a German. His finger nails are -cut neatly to a point." John recalled the habit of the -Germans he had met at Feldkirch, of the masters of -his school, who had trimmed their nails in that -particular fashion. Rather a Chinese fashion, John thought. -His eyes travelled from the fat man's face and took -in the younger man's hard countenance. He was -recalling something he had read of Captain Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I remember reading something about you, -Captain Cherriton," he ventured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean my escape from the British officers' -prison camp at Celle," replied the German, easily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," returned John, "that was it. You had rather -an adventurous time getting across the frontier."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had a pretty hot time," laughed Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The conversation between the three became general -after this, and presently Cherriton invited John to -accompany him to his hotel in the Strand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along and have a drink and a smoke with me. -I should much like to have a chat with you, Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John considered the proposal for a moment, and then -decided to go. He bade good night to Manners, and as -he shook hands with the big man, a little phial of white -tabloids passed from Manners's palm to his own. For a -minute John felt inclined to ask a question, but caution -saved him. He slipped the little cocaine tablets into -his waistcoat pocket, thanked Manners under his breath, -and followed Cherriton, who had taken up his light -overcoat, and was moving towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was quite dark in the square when they emerged, -and in the distance, near the river, a taxi was moving -slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is my vehicle," remarked Cherriton, standing -under the light of a shaded lamp, so that the distant -taxi-man could observe them. A minute later the taxi -drew to a halt. John stepped inside, and Cherriton -followed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the taxi door closed, a man, who had been standing -in the darkness against the rails of the square opposite -stepped out into the road and signalled with his arm. -At that moment John was leaning back in the taxi, -giving himself up to thoughts of the swift events of the -last half-hour. Who was this Captain Cherriton, who -appeared to have taken such a fancy to him? Was it -possible——? His thoughts received a jolt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hey, stop!" a loud voice from the road echoed in -his ears. John was projected forward almost upon his -face. The vehicle came to a sudden halt; the door of -the taxi was flung open; two men appeared in the -aperture, and a heavy hand fell upon John's shoulder. -He glanced at his companion, and saw that, from the -other side, intruders were also laying heavy hands upon -him. With a mighty wrench of his shoulder John -snatched himself free. Scarcely knowing what had -happened, he attempted to dash after his companion, -who had been dragged out into the road. He was -ignominiously pulled back by the leg. He heard a voice -shouting:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't bother about the other one—this is our man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, in a confusion of gripping hands, John was -flung back on the seat of the taxi; a voice spoke firmly -in his ear:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll keep quiet, young man, or it will be the worse -for you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John saw Captain Cherriton flitting like a shadow -along the road and out of the square. He looked at the -person who was seated beside him in the taxi, and was -surprised to find a big, typical police officer in plain -clothes. Opposite John two other officers, who had -crowded into the vehicle, were seated, looking at him -with steady, interested gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your name's Treves?" demanded one of the men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What of it?" returned John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all I want to know," answered the man, coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the taxi glided along John strove to gather his -scattered wits, but it was not until a plain, -quietly-furnished room had been achieved in Scotland Yard, -that any light broke in upon his senses. He found -himself confronted by a tall, grey-moustached man in -civilian clothes. The man was standing beside a table, -and beside him stood a distinguished-looking staff -officer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As John entered the room, in charge of two detectives, -his senses were still in a whirl from the swiftness of his -adventure. The grey-moustached man, whom the detectives -addressed as "Sir Robert," rose from his chair and -looked at him with stern, brooding eyes; then his gaze -turned to one of John's captors, who had entered the -room and was holding Baron Rathenau's overcoat on his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you his papers?" he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is not my overcoat," intervened John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Silence," commanded Sir Robert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The detective went through the pockets of the overcoat. -He found a small time-table, two or three paid -restaurant bills, and finally the letter Treves had written -to Manners. The grey-moustached police commissioner -took these articles, and laid them on the blotting-pad -before him. Then, at a brief command, a second detective -stepped forward and searched John's pockets, taking -out the two letters that had been addressed to Treves -and the telegram signed "Elaine." These also were -laid upon the desk. The staff officer and Sir Robert -read them carefully. When the officer, whom John -observed to be a general of staff, read Treves's incriminating -letter to Manners, he drew in his breath and whistled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The grey-moustached man took the letter from his -fingers, read it, then held it forth towards John. His -tone was utterly aloof, cold, and forbidding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was unfortunate, Treves," he said, "that you -should carry this letter in your pocket. For this, added -to the information we have gathered about you during -the past three months, condemns you absolutely." He -paused a moment, then went on. "I can only say," he -added ruthlessly, "that I thank God we have been able -to lay our hands on you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only in that moment that John for the first -time realised the appalling danger that was sweeping -upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would like to make some explanation, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your correspondence," retorted Sir Robert, with -sinister meaning, "has made all the explanation we -require! General Whiston here is quite satisfied, and so -am I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Whiston, who had been looking fixedly at -John, now passed round the table and walked towards -him. He was a tall, bronzed man, with a clipped -moustache, and a wide, strong mouth. John had recognised -his name in a moment. He was Colonel Treves's old -friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard Treves," said General Whiston, "you have -broken your father's heart already; you must now -make your peace with God. There is only one thing -left for me to do for my old and dear friend, and I intend -to do it—he shall never learn that his son died as a -traitor to his country. Even now," he went on, "though -I have had you watched for three months, I can still -scarcely credit it, you—a Treves!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced towards the door. John felt a heavy -hand fall upon his shoulder from behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This way, please," said a polite voice in his ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the detective's voice sounded in his ear and the -detective's hand fell on his shoulder, John's scurrying -senses seemed to gather themselves together. He became -calm in presence of the greatest danger his life had ever -known. When next he spoke his voice was steady, and -his manner, despite its deep gravity, portrayed not the -slightest trace of nervousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir," he said, "may I speak merely one or two -words before I am removed?" He looked into the -bronzed countenance of Colonel Treves's old friend. -There was no pity for him on that strong, handsome face. -In General Whiston's eyes he had been guilty of the -blackest of all crimes. The General answered in his -deep-toned voice of authority.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will be permitted to make a statement, but not now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a very important declaration to make, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert, who was still scrutinising the incriminating -letter that had been taken from Rathenau's overcoat, -looked up now, then rapidly pencilled a few words on a -slip of paper which he handed to Whiston. The General -read the slip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, perhaps so," he said; "I agree with you, time -is everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert looked into John's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you prepared," he went on, "to give us the -name of the person to whom this letter was written?" He -lifted Treves's incriminating missive and held it for -John's inspection. John had already been permitted to -read the letter, though not to hold it in his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," answered Manton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A slight flicker of surprise lit in Sir Robert's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His name," answered John, "is either Manners, or -Cherriton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert laid down the letter with an impatient -gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is no answer to my question. You wrote the -letter yourself. To whom did you write it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't write it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You suggest that it is a forgery?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Either you wrote the letter or you didn't write it," -pursued Sir Robert. "Your statements contradict each -other. You say, in the first place, that you did not -write it. In the second place, you say it is not a -forgery."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Whiston now spoke, his stern gaze on John's -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This letter," he said, glancing towards the sheet, -"is in your own writing, which I happen to know very -well. Your attempt at mystification," he went on, "will -be of no avail, either now or later."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt in his tones intense antagonism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I might be permitted to speak to you gentlemen -alone," he said, "I will in three minutes explain the -mystery."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Whiston glanced at the Commissioner of -Police.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is for you to say, Sir Robert," he said. "To-night -the affair is in your hands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert pondered the subject for a moment, then -glanced at the detectives who stood behind John; with -his hand he made a slow, significant gesture. John, who -was standing at attention before the table, heard the -detectives move away, and a moment later the door -softly closed behind them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was alone with the Commissioner of Police and the -General.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On his accusers' faces John read a stern and -determined intention that the law should take its course, -not the tortuous, long-drawn old law of pre-war days, -but the swift justice which is meted out to traitors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall have three minutes in which to speak!" Sir -Robert's voice smote John's ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton knew that if he held his peace and the law -moved with its inexorable swiftness, he would by -to-morrow have expiated the crime of another man. He -was in another man's shoes. Innocently, he had taken -up that other man's identity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he had not shouldered everything, he had not -rendered himself liable for that other man's treachery. -And yet, at the back of his mind, there was pity, even -for Treves. He thought of the man's weakness, of his -shattered nerves, of Manners's obvious power over him. -Perhaps, even in uttering the truth to these two stern -judges, he might put in a good word for Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The statement I have to make, gentlemen, is an -amazing one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will also have to be a brief one," retorted Sir -Robert coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, out with it," interposed General Whiston.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish to say, sir, that I am not Bernard Treves!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A flash of anger lit in General Whiston's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You say that, despite the fact that I am prepared to -identify you as Bernard Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My statement," returned John, "is, I admit, an -amazing one. Nevertheless, it is a fact, gentlemen. My -name is Manton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commissioner of Police pulled at his moustache.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A statement of this kind," he said, "is ridiculous -in presence of General Whiston, who knows you and -recognises your handwriting in this letter." He leaned -back in his chair and struck the letters that had been -taken from John's pocket with the back of his hand. -"These letters, taken from your person, this telegram -addressed to you, and this letter conveying information -to the enemy, are sufficient in themselves to identify you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing you wish to say, General?" asked -Sir Robert of Whiston.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The General shook his head, and Sir Robert put his -thumb on the bell-push at the corner of his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John heard the whirr of a bell in the room beyond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am prepared, sir," he said hurriedly, "to prove -every word I say. My name is Manton, and I undertook -to assume Treves's identity merely to please a friend who -wished to help him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are ready to give us the name of your friend, -of course?" interposed General Whiston. He had been -utterly unmoved by this statement of John's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His name is Gilbert, sir; Captain Gilbert, of Ryde, -Isle of Wight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Whiston answered nothing; there was no -softening in the harshness of his expression. For a -moment he was silent. Then, with a glance at Sir -Robert, he moved towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just a few minutes, Sir Robert," he said. "This is a -matter easy of proof."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He passed out of the room. At the door, as he -drew it open, John heard him speaking to two men -outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Robert will be ready for you in five minutes," he -was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door closed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert tapped his fingers upon the surface of his -desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wish to affirm that Captain Gilbert is prepared -to prove the truth of your statement?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure he will be prepared to prove that my name -is Manton," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his long experience Sir Robert had come across -many singular and dramatic events. The great police -force of which he was the chief was dealing always in -drama. In his experience he had interviewed every -quality and degree of criminal, from affluent company -promoters downward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's bearing and manner struck him as nothing -unusual. John's statement that his was a case of -mistaken identity, that Scotland Yard had for once made -a mistake, meant nothing to the Police Commissioner. -Such a statement was one of the commonest in his -experience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt no sympathy for John, and believing explicitly -in his guilt, was determined to listen no further. He -leaned forward and began to make rapid notes upon the -writing pad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, in the meantime, stood motionless beyond -the desk. Save for the movement of Sir Robert's pen, -and the tick of a small travelling clock on Sir Robert's -desk, no sound disturbed the heavy silence. Despite his -calmness, John felt the tension grow upon him; the -waiting seemed to draw itself out. He glanced at the -clock, and observed that it was only a little after ten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whirl of events that night sped through his mind -in rapid panorama, but of one thing he was certain—Manners -and Captain Cherriton were either spies or -traitors, and Scotland Yard in laying hands upon him, -and allowing Cherriton to go, had made a mistake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had already guessed that General Whiston had -gone to telephone Captain Gilbert. He recalled now the -letter General Whiston had written to old Colonel Treves. -The letter which said that he had done for Bernard -Treves everything that was possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His mind then turned again to Gilbert. He wondered -what the Captain would do when he heard of the -extraordinary outcome of his visit to St. George's Square. -He had gone there at Gilbert's own suggestion. He felt -that the situation for himself at that moment was delicate -in the extreme. But it was not yet fatal. A miscarriage -of justice was impossible if Gilbert spoke up, as no doubt -he would do. He knew that all Gilbert's sympathy for -Bernard Treves would vanish the moment he heard to -what depths that young man had descended. He recalled -what Gilbert had said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves is afraid. He imagines that some one is -watching him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it suddenly occurred to John that at the back -of Treves's mind there had been a subtle idea against -himself. Treves had desired that he, John, should step -into his guilty shoes and should not only wear those -shoes, but should suffer for his crime.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I stepped into far deeper water than I knew," mused -John, and as the thought passed through his mind, the -door opened and General Whiston re-entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The General walked behind John, then turned and -looked keenly into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves," he said, "you will be examined again in -the morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert's finger was suspended over the bell upon -his desk. In answer to his inquiring glance, General -Whiston nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again John felt a man's hand laid on his shoulder, -and for the second time a voice uttering polite words:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This way, please!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time, however, there was no pause; he was led -out into the corridor, with a tall, heavily-built man at -his side and another walking behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door of Sir Robert's room closed with a soft click.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-vi"><span class="large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The moment the door closed upon John, General Whiston -flung himself into a chair beside Sir Robert's table. -There was an expression on his face that puzzled the -Police Commissioner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Sir Robert," began the General, "it is an -amazing thing, but Captain Gilbert corroborates our -prisoner's statements entirely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert flashed a glance at the incriminating letters -on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's impossible!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nevertheless, Gilbert, who is a very sound officer, -corroborates every word this young man has said. I -have ordered Gilbert to present himself here first thing -in the morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert was staring in utter bewilderment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean we have got the wrong man?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," answered the General, impatiently; -"the thing is beyond my capacity. I've known this -young blackguard for years. Only slightly, of course, -but I would have sworn to him anywhere. Gilbert, -however, tells me an extraordinary story. He says our -prisoner is a thoroughly honest fellow, by the name of -Manton. He gave me a minute history of the man, who -was formerly at Scarthoe Head. I have ordered the -adjutant from Scarthoe to report himself here to-morrow. -We can then get to the bottom of this extraordinary -tangle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," protested Sir Robert, "these letters must be -explained; and you have had this man watched for -months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Precisely; that complicates matters enormously."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was Treves guilty of the crimes laid against him, or -was this man guilty?" inquired Sir Robert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The General shook his head in bewilderment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't ask me; I don't know," he said, "to-morrow -will settle everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The night that followed was the longest that John had -ever spent. What if by some awful mischance Captain -Gilbert disowned him entirely? However, he could not -think that of Gilbert. He was prepared to swear by the -Captain's honesty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A police officer called him early next morning. He -dressed and was served with a satisfactory breakfast. -A morning newspaper was brought to him, but at ten -o'clock he was peremptorily summoned to present -himself in Sir Robert's room. Under escort he made -his way along various passages. The door was opened -and he stepped into the room and stood at attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Robert was not present. General Whiston stood -at the window, and near him was a sleek-looking, -smooth-haired, clean shaven man in a morning coat, well cut -trousers and patent leather boots. John could feel the -stranger's eyes steadily upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Whiston turned from the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Gilbert," he said, "has been here. He has -made certain statements on your behalf which are so -far satisfactory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A silence fell; the stranger moved to Sir Robert's -desk, seated himself in Sir Robert's chair, and beckoned -John to a chair opposite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith was the head of a great branch of the -Secret Intelligence Department, but there was no air of -authority in his manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, please," he said. His voice was smooth -and agreeable. He glanced at the window, then again -at John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you kindly tell me the name of your officer in -command at Scarthoe Fort?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John promptly gave him the name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How many men were in the fort?" The quiet -gentleman, who possessed one of the subtlest brains in -England, glanced at a slip of paper on his desk. He was -putting John through an examination such as many a -suspected person had failed to survive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One hundred and fifty, sir—eighty at the lower fort -and seventy at the upper, exclusive of officers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you recollect the calibre of the guns?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John gave the exact dimensions of the guns at both -the lower and upper fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you possibly recollect," inquired the other, -"from your books, what store of six-inch ammunition -there was?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately John recollected the number of shells -exactly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," commented the cross-examiner. "But your -statement doesn't tally with my present knowledge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am speaking of six weeks ago, sir; since then there -would have been a heavy gun practice," John added -promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder gentleman leaned back in his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These are all details which a spy would make a -great point of observing." He looked steadily into -John's face, until John became conscious of nothing but -his keen, grey eyes. They were kindly eyes, but the -intensity of his glance was something that John had -never before experienced. He looked back frankly into -the elder man's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose they are, sir," he answered, "but they -came to me in my ordinary course of work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How many fort candles were there in the storeroom?" -asked the other, casually.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eight dozen, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith nodded, as though satisfied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will now come to another matter," he said. -"You were educated in Germany?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John admitted the fact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you been in Germany since your boyhood?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is your opinion of Captain Gilbert?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I took a great liking to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You trusted him when he asked you to assume -another man's identity?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Absolutely, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So do I," said Dacent Smith, suddenly changing his -tone. "I trust him absolutely. I will only try your -patience just one moment longer." He pushed a clean -slip of paper towards John. "Would you mind writing -on that these three words, 'Deceive,' 'parallel,' and -'nursery.' Just scribble them quickly, without care."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John wrote the words and handed them across the -table. The elder man took the sheet and immediately -compared it with Treves's incriminating letter, and a pile -of other letters in Treves's handwriting, which lay beside -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced up at the General, who stood near the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The handwriting is totally unlike, General. Moreover, -our young friend here can spell the words, whereas, -from letters supplied us by Gilbert, Treves could -not." He turned again and looked at John. Then he broke -into a smile that John found charming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Manton," he said, "you have come through -the ordeal excellently. But as a matter of formality -you must be identified both by Captain Gilbert and -your adjutant from Scarthoe Head."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir," answered John. "I am sorry to -have caused so much trouble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not at all," protested the elder man. "Your -desire for adventure placed you in a very nasty position. -But such trouble as you have caused us may yet be -turned to good account."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John hesitated a moment, then ventured:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I may, sir, I would like to make a statement in -regard to the man Manners, at 208, St. George's Square, -I am certain he is a spy, sir—a German spy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Manton," said Dacent Smith, laying his -hands on the desk, "we know that already."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the other man," continued John, "Cherriton. -I don't believe he is all he pretends to be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the mention of Cherriton the lightness of mood -vanished from the elder man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What name?" he inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Cherriton, the man with the fair hair, who -was in the taxi with me. The police officers allowed him -to escape."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beyond the table the great man of the Secret Service -who had been cross-examining him, eased his spectacles. -For, without knowing it, John had made a statement -which aroused all his interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This afternoon, Manton," he said, "you must come -to my room. It seems to me," he continued, "you can -be of very great use to my department."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is your department, sir?" asked John politely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder man smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we need not give it a name, Manton. But -perhaps you can guess. Perhaps, indeed, you are -destined to make further acquaintance with my department -and with your friend, Mr. Manners." He paused a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Gilbert tells me that you wish to rejoin the -army?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is so, sir," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An excellent intention," continued Dacent Smith. -"But it has occurred to me that there is other work of -national importance which may suit you better." He -glanced at Whiston. "With General Whiston's aid I -think we can arrange that you do not appear in uniform -for some time. Another thing Captain Gilbert reported -to me," he went on, quietly, "is that you are a young -man with a taste for adventure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith extended his hand in farewell. "You -are a free man, Manton. But I shall expect you to -come to my rooms at 286, Jermyn Street at three o'clock -this afternoon." He gave John a card. "You will give -this to my servant at the door."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The card read: "Mr. Dacent Smith, Savile Club"—that -and nothing more.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At the time when John was undergoing his cross-examination -at the hands of the great Dacent Smith, -Manners and Captain Cherriton were seated in a back -room at a house in Hampstead. Cherriton, who had -read half a dozen morning papers, glanced at his companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no word in any of them about our friend -Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was scarcely time for an announcement," -Manners answered. "Perhaps it will be in the evening -papers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men waited till evening, but still the papers -contained no line about Treves's capture. Cherriton -was still not sure on what charge Treves had been arrested. -If the charge had been an ordinary one, other than -treason, there would already have been an account of -some kind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must find out some other way than through the -papers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have an excellent way of finding out," observed -Manners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, put it into execution at once," returned his -superior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners looked at his watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That way won't do until after six o'clock. After -six o'clock, Herr Baron, I will take you into the presence -of the most beautiful girl in England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not admire English beauty," answered Rathenau, -caustically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners lifted his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but this one, she is wonderful!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How will she know about Treves, any more than we do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners looked across at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave that to me," he said, "I can assure you she -will know." He took out his pocket-book and looked -up an address. "If we go now," he said, "we shall -get there a little after six, in time to interview the lady -on her return from business."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later a taxi sped along Kentish Town -Road and turned into Bowles Avenue, Camden Town. -The street was a particularly respectable one, with -windows and doors freshly painted. Judging from the -cleanliness of the curtains and the brightness of the -door handles, the inhabitants of this thoroughfare each -took a pride in his residence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The taxi containing Manners and Cherriton drew to -a halt before the door of No. 65. Cherriton paid the -driver and dismissed him. The two men crossed the -pavement, and Manners lifted the bright brass knocker. -Three times Manners knocked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was that day attired with particular smartness -in a grey, soft felt hat, a grey frock-coat, and light fawn -linen gaiters. The Baron was wearing a navy-blue suit, -made for him at the Army and Navy Stores. He also -wore a grey felt hat, set well back on his head. In his -hip pocket he carried a Mauser pistol, but this was -always part of his apparel, as it were. Manners carried -other little aids to his personal safety. But upon that -evening their mission was pacific. They had only a -desire to ask a certain lady if she had news of Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three times Manners applied the knocker; then -footsteps came rapidly along the passage. The door -was opened by a tall, brown-haired girl, wearing a white -blouse and blue skirt, both of which Cherriton noticed -were well cut. The girl's complexion was not pale, yet -tended towards pallor. Her cheeks were softly rounded, -her chin small, yet firm. Her eyes were grey, frank -and steady in gaze. Cherriton, noticing her long, curved -lashes and finely-arched brows, conceded that here, for -once, he was looking upon a truly beautiful English -woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening," Manners was saying. He had lifted -his hat with extreme politeness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening," responded the girl, looking with -puzzled eyes from one man to the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have no doubt forgotten me," Manners spoke -again, and then a faint recognition came to the girl's -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not at all," she said. "Will you come in?" She -led the way to a little parlour, a bright little apartment, -where she lived alone. She had made it as pretty -and comfortable as possible with her small means.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two Germans entered the room, and Manners -closed the door. After some preliminary conversation -he broached the subject of his visit, but artfully and -cunningly hiding it in a veil of words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have some business, madam," he said, "with"—he -paused a moment—"with Mr. Treves. I have lost -his address; I wonder if you could give it me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl looked at him a moment; an expression of -reserve came into her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid I cannot oblige you," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have heard from him lately?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl hesitated a moment, and pushed back the -fine brown hair from her brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not lately," she answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will be seeing him again shortly, no doubt?" -pursued Manners, smiling amicably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," said the girl. "I am afraid," she -said, "I cannot give you his address, and if that is all -you wish to see me about——" She rose quite politely, -but firmly. And as she did so some one lifted the knocker -of the front door and smote it thrice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners started visibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have visitors?" he asked quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know who it can be," said the girl. "I am -expecting no one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners sprang up and stood between her and the -door. He looked into her face as she came towards -him, then moved politely away. He felt that her candid -eyes held no secrets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the door had closed he turned to Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She has heard nothing of him; she knows no more -than we do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is a beautiful woman, I'll admit," said Cherriton, -who had been deep in thought. He raised his strong, -supple hand and pointed towards the door. "Just -open that," he said quietly, "and see who it is who is -coming to visit her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners, with his usual swiftness of step and dexterity -of movement, approached the door and noiselessly -drew it open. Quietly he put his head out and looked -along the passage. Then he drew back and gently closed -the door. His face, when he turned towards Cherriton, -was deathly white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is it?" demanded Cherriton, who had come -swiftly to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard Treves!" answered Manners, moistening his -lips with his tongue. The thought that Treves had -betrayed them blazed through his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In an instant Cherriton sprang to the window and -peered furtively up and down the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's alone," he said, with a note of relief in his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gott in Himmel!" exclaimed Manners under his -breath. "How did he get here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Either escaped or acquitted," answered Cherriton, -curtly. "Our business," he went on swiftly, under his -breath, "is to express great delight when we see him. -In the meantime I'll compose myself with a cigarette."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know why his coming back like this should -make me feel so nervous," mused Manners. "I am more -psychic than you are, Herr Baron."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton looked at the big, fat figure in the chair -opposite him. He curled his lip in faint contempt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile John Manton, having knocked at the door -of 65, Bowles Avenue, found, to his astonishment, that -that door was opened by a girl of most extreme beauty. -He had come there under orders from Dacent Smith to -discover the identity of the sender of the telegram signed -"Elaine." He had been given many instructions during -that afternoon, but as he stood upon the threshold of -No. 65 a swift admiration leapt into his eyes for the girl -who confronted him on the doorstep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I come in?" asked John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," answered the girl. To his amazement, -she seized his hand as she spoke. "Oh, how long you -have been!" she said. She drew him into the hall and -closed the door. Silence and caution were the parts -John had been ordered to play. He did not withdraw -his hand from her warm grasp. "You never came, you -never wrote," continued the girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wasn't able to," John answered, truthfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet I told you, Bernard," she went on, looking -up into his face—he was glad that the light in the hall -was not intense—" and yet I told you, Bernard, that if -you confessed everything to your father he would forgive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has forgiven a great deal," answered Manton, -vaguely. He looked down at her—a little colour had -come into her cheeks, and, as for her eyes, he had never -seen eyes which evoked in him so much admiration. -At that moment Manners put his face out at the door -of the inner room; then swiftly withdrew it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's that?" John asked, quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a man who has come to see you, Bernard; but -before you go in I want to say"—she laid her hand -softly on the lapel of John's coat—"I want to say, -Bernard, that I forgive you—everything." She was -smiling at him, a smile of wonderful beauty. "After all, -Bernard," she whispered, "I am your wife, and it is a -wife's privilege to forgive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered John. He could think of nothing -else to say. Here was the most beautiful woman he had -ever seen, holding his hand warmly in hers, and telling -him she forgave him everything. The situation would -have been delightful if he had only been the other man!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard, for my sake, you will try, won't you?" She -paused, and this time he was obliged to frame some -sort of answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do the best I can," he said, lamely, then added, -to turn the subject, "Who is your visitor?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Mr. Manners, the big, stout man you brought -here a long while ago. He has a friend with him, a -younger man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Cherriton?" asked John, lowering his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They came to ask where you were, and wanted your -address, but I remembered what you told me and would -not give it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then for the first time John looked keenly into her -face. He had never seen her in his life before, and at -any moment she might recognise him. But even with -that danger hovering over him he could not help -wondering if she loved Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Bernard"; she took his hand in hers. "You -must see your friends and get rid of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John walked with her along the narrow passage. At -the door of the parlour the girl halted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When they are gone," she whispered, "I have whole -heaps of things to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She pushed open the door and followed John into the -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners, who was seated at the hearth, sprang up -and rushed towards Manton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in! Come in!" he cried, drawing John -forward. "It does my eyes good to see you again, eh, -Captain Cherriton?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Baron Rathenau, who had also risen, enclosed Manton's -fingers in his hard, cold grip. "I, too, am glad -to see you," he said, fixing his eyes steadily on John's.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-vii"><span class="large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Things were not as they seemed. The situation in -the little parlour was delicate in the extreme, and as -John's gaze passed from the fat countenance of Manners -to the cold forcefulness of Cherriton, whose strong hand -but a moment ago gripped his own in greeting, he told -himself that if he could creep from that situation with -credit he could escape from anything. Both Cherriton's -and Manners's welcome rang false. They were not -pleased to see him. They were startled and puzzled, -and Cherriton, at least, was more than puzzled. John -knew that whatever occurred between himself and these -two men must occur privately. Moreover, there was a -second danger, which he knew to be ever present. The -light in the bright little parlour was quite strong. The -fact that he had dexterously placed his back to the -window might not serve him for more than a few minutes. -What if Elaine Treves suddenly discovered her mistake?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somehow the teeming possibilities of the moment -gave steadiness to John's nerves. He thought of a plan, -and put it into execution on the instant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine," he said—he used her name for the first -time, and as he spoke he took her slender hand in -his grasp—"I have business to discuss with Captain -Cherriton and Mr. Manners."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I promise we shall not keep your husband more than -a few minutes," intervened Cherriton. "Yes, old -Manwitz for once is right," he thought; "here is an -Englishwoman possessed of beauty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made across the room, intending politely to hold -open the door for Elaine to pass out. John, however, -was quicker, and as he held the door wide Elaine lifted -her grey-blue, beautiful eyes and searched his. Her -expression, John thought, was one of surprise—surprise -at what?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He closed the door, and instantly Cherriton laid a -hand on his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he demanded, "what happened to you last night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were present at the beginning of the happening," -returned John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The four men were police officers, were they not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Detectives from Scotland Yard. They took me -there, cross-examined me, and discovered that a mistake -had been made."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners drew in a deep breath of relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah—a—mistake!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton, who was busy with a cigarette, looked at -John under his brows. He had retreated to the hearth, -and-was leaning with his back against the mantelshelf. -"A very unpleasant incident for you, eh, Treves?" he -inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very," responded John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And my overcoat—my very excellent summer -overcoat—what happened to that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the moment of John's appearance in the room -he had been leading up to this question—had his overcoat -been searched, had Treves's incriminating letter been -discovered? It occurred to him that if John, immediately -after his arrest, had established his identity no search of -his overcoat was probable. And yet caution was bred in -him. His deeply subtle mind prompted him to probe -the matter to its depths, and at the same time to convey -no suspicion of his anxiety to John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cherriton, your overcoat is quite safe," John said -quietly. "I left it on your behalf in the cloak-room at -Charing Cross Station." He put his hand into his -pocket and drew out the ticket. Cherriton took it from -his extended fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am particularly obliged to you, Treves," he said. -"I have a special fondness for that overcoat? So the -Scotland Yard people were for once mistaken."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Entirely," said John, with truth; "they mistook me -for another man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were you made acquainted with the charges against -the real person?" probed Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was wanted for misappropriation of military funds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both Manners and Cherriton exhibited increasing -interest in the unknown culprit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You heard the person's name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His name was John Manton. He was a sergeant at -Scarthoe Fort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is in the Isle of Wight?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," John answered; "that accounts for them -seizing me—they traced me from the Isle of Wight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton and Manners exchanged glances; neither man -felt at all comfortable. But Cherriton felt that he had -pressed the matter enough. He suddenly assumed his -air of bland amiability, but it sat ill on him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Manners," he exclaimed, looking at his -confrère, "you were mistaken—you assumed that our dear -friend Treves had escaped, and were in a great fluster of -anxiety on his behalf; whereas the little misfortune that -occurred to him was all a mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All a mistake," repeated John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now, I think," Cherriton remarked, taking up -his grey felt hat and denting it carefully with his hand, -"I think we will not keep you from your wife any longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the second time that day he gripped John's hand -in his, and John, looking back into his cold blue eyes, -felt the steady, penetrating power of Cherriton's gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here was a man," thought John, "used to -command—a man possessed of exceptional powers of mind -and physique. You are a daring fellow," thought John; -"a subtle and cunning worker of evil, but for once in your -life you are mistaken. I am not the man you think, -either in name or in character."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then a singular thing happened to John. On the very -instant when his fingers slid away from the other's touch -a flaming instinct ran through him—a passionate impulse -to leap upon the other's throat and squeeze the life out -of him came upon him as a definite and conscious wish. -Though he had known Cherriton only for two days, he -felt a great hate swirl up in him against this serenely -poised, potent enemy. Against Manners, whom he -knew, and whom Dacent Smith knew to be a spy, he felt -nothing of this. That afternoon he had been instructed -well and thoroughly by Dacent Smith. Dacent Smith had -talked much with him, drawing him out, subtly examining -him as to his aspirations and his powers. And gradually, -during the talk of that afternoon, Smith had come to -realise that in John Manton he possessed a keen and -highly-wrought weapon. Here was a young man who -had fought for his country, who was willing to fight for -it again in any circumstances. And long before the end -of that interview the chief of a great branch of the Secret -Service had laid his hand on John's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Manton," he had explained, "you were wasted as a -sergeant at Scarthoe Head. There are big things -awaiting you. You have fought the enemy in the open; -from to-day you shall fight him in the dark. You will -find him more tricky and subtle and dangerous than he -was in France"—then he had paused a moment, looking -at John. "Accidents sometimes happen, Manton, my boy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One must be prepared for accidents," John had -answered, quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have lost two or three splendid fellows during the -past year. I am telling you this," the chief resumed, -"that you may remain always on your guard. Fate or -Providence has placed you in a wonderful position with -the aid of your acquaintance, Manwitz. I have the -complete dossier in that cupboard over there." He pointed to -a cabinet against the wall. "Your acquaintance with -Manwitz gives you a splendid start. You will use it to -acquire such information as will be useful to the Department, -but in the first place you must discover all there is -to know about the amiable and unexpected Cherriton. -We shall at the same time be working to discover things -from our end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John thought of this conversation as Manners and -Cherriton took their departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will come and see me again soon, will you -not?" Manners had remarked at the moment of departure. -He looked cunningly and meaningly into John's eyes. -In effect he had been saying: "You will come and see me -again immediately those cocaine tabloids have been -consumed." Bernard Treves's craving for cocaine, both -Manners and Cherriton knew, held that young man as by -bonds of steel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll come again soon," John had answered, slipping -the new address Manners had given him into his waistcoat -pocket. He watched the two men pass into the street, -then closed the door, and re-entered the empty parlour. -The daintiness, the cleanliness, and the perfect taste of -the little apartment had already won his appreciation. -He wondered when Elaine Treves would descend from -above, and what would happen then. Until now only -a few fleeting words had passed between himself and the -beautiful girl who was Treves's wife. What was to happen -now in the intimacy that would ensue when she re-entered -the room?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was smoking one of Treves's cigarettes, with his -back against the mantelshelf, when the door opened and -Elaine quietly entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you have got rid of them, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him, he thought, a little shyly, with -something of reserve in her glance. He watched her as -she crossed to a chintz-covered wicker arm-chair, with its -back to the window. At her side was a small work-table. -She took out a needle, a thread, and various bits -of coloured silk. A silence drew itself out that became -awkward. John moved from one foot to another; -then he made an effort to pick up the thread of what he -believed to be Treves's life in relation to the girl who was -so industriously sewing, with bowed head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry I wasn't able to come in answer to your wire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Bernard, you might have answered it," -returned Elaine, quietly, without raising her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you know, I was not able to. Circumstances -did not permit me to answer it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was afraid of that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She suddenly looked up at him with an expression of -hopelessness in her fine eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she said, "sometimes I think you will -never, never be able to keep your promise to me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?" John asked, feeling his way cautiously. -He could see that she was stirred, that something had -moved her deeply. He was more than ever assured of -this when she rose, stood before him, and looked steadily -into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Bernard, if you could only, only fight!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Under the close scrutiny of her eyes John felt -extraordinarily uncomfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Other people have fought and have conquered," went -on the girl. "Why should not you? Sometimes," -she went on, "you are quite as you should be, just as you -are now—the man who once won my love. And then, -again——" She broke off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accidentally John had put his fingers in his waistcoat -pocket. He felt the contact of the little bottle of cocaine -tabloids Manners had forced upon him. He had guessed -that Elaine was referring to Treves's enslavement to this -drug, and he drew out the bottle, holding it in the palm -of his hand. He saw the girl look at the tabloids with -an expression of loathing; then something seemed to -pass through her that drew her rigid and erect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder," she said, "in our very short months -together, how often you have promised, have sworn, to -give it up!" Her manner suddenly changed again, and -she held out her hand imploringly. "I wonder, Bernard, -if you have the courage to give them to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," John said, "I will give them to you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He unscrewed the top of the little bottle, and poured -the white tabloids one after another into the palm of her -hand. She looked at them for a moment, then into his -face. John was still standing with his back towards the -small fire. He felt the girl's hand on his arm; she was -thrusting him aside. A moment later she had flung the -tabloids into the red embers, and before John knew it -she was holding his hand in hers, looking up into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she said, in a low voice, "I believe—I -believe you have changed! I think strength is coming to -you—you will win yet!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," John answered, "I swear I'll win."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words came from him almost without volition, -and at the same moment an instinct came to him -that matters were drifting too far. He turned the -conversation with a laugh, and for some minutes they -were discussing general topics. He helped her to -prepare the supper, going into the little kitchen and -bringing out plates and dishes, under her direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Daylight faded, much to John's relief. They took -supper together in the little parlour; John noticed how -deft and womanly she was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our friend Treves is a lucky man, if he only knew it," -thought he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid there is nothing to drink, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That doesn't trouble me," John answered; then saw -her pause with the teapot uplifted in frank surprise. -"I mean," said John, striving to recover the situation, -"if you haven't got it, I don't mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The meal passed off in an air of general cheerfulness. -Elaine's little clock struck nine, and when the meal was -at an end John took the seat opposite Elaine and her -little work-basket. She busied herself with her -fancy-work, and occasionally John caught her eyes resting upon -him with a thoughtful and somewhat puzzled expression. -He strove to gather from her manner what her feelings -really were towards her husband. "She can't love him," -thought John; "he's too much of a brute and a waster -for that. And yet women are strange creatures."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine had been silent for some minutes, but -presently she spoke, uttering something that appeared to -have dwelt for long in her mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she said, "I am not so hard as you think, -but I am sure the way I am acting is the only right -way." She paused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure it is the right way," answered John, -looking into her candid, girlish face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He noticed again the flicker of surprise. He was -always making false steps. The situation was difficult -beyond everything he had experienced. Dacent Smith -had impressed upon him the importance of tact and -finesse. Here was a situation thrust upon him requiring -abundance of both.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem to have changed your point of view?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well——" John began, cautiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were so violent with me," interposed Elaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was no intention on my part to be anything of -the sort towards you," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wondered what Treves had done, what Treves had -said. He began to experience pleasure in the situation; -he began to wonder what was to happen next. But very -soon after that the clock struck ten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine put away her needlework and rose somewhat abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must go now, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked at her for a moment in surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," he said, "I see—of course."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Elaine crossed the hearthrug and laid her slender -hands on the lapels of his coat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-night, Bernard," she said, "I have almost felt as -if you were your old self again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," answered John, awkwardly; his position -at that moment was awkward and utterly false; he was -like a man who walks blindly on the edge of a precipice. -He wondered if she was about to kiss him, or if she -expected him to salute her in that way. This doubt was -still upon him when Elaine reached up and touched his -cheeks lightly with her lips. There was no passion, no -love—nothing but a sort of sisterly affection in the -embrace, but John was glad when it was over. If she -had been a less beautiful woman the situation would have -been so very much easier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine accompanied him along the passage, handing -him his hat and stick as they went. In the darkness at -the door, as they shook hands, John felt that the -impression of her fingers was warmer and infinitely more -cordial that the greeting she had given him upon his -arrival. He could see her face only dimly. She had -seemed surprised that he had departed so easily; he felt -that he must say something, utter some remark that -possibly might have been uttered by Bernard Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry to have to go," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Elaine's voice came to him quietly in the darkness. -There was a new note in her words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must come again—soon, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door closed softly, and she was gone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-viii"><span class="large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Dacent Smith, busy in his luxurious bachelor -apartments in Jermyn Street, was going through a pile -of documents, all relating directly or indirectly to -the multitudinous activities of his department. He -had continued his work for, perhaps, half an hour after -his brief luncheon interval when the man-servant entered -and announced a visitor. Dacent Smith's man-servant -was discretion itself. He looked like a walking secret, -and was a big, pallid man, with high cheek-bones and a -grim, hard mouth. He was devoted body and soul to -Dacent Smith, and no tortures ever devised could have -ever wormed a word from him of his master's activities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Grew?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Treves, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll see Mr. Treves at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grew, the man-servant, departed, and a minute later -John was ushered into the apartment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith greeted him with brief cordiality, then -indicated a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Treves," he said, with a smile, "what is your -news?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is very little to tell you, sir, so far. The -person who wrote that telegram signed 'Elaine,' is -Bernard Treves's wife!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith lifted his eyebrows; a twinkle of humour -was detectable in his expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She was quite deceived, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A piquant situation," smiled Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very!" answered John, seriously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see how quickly you find yourself in deep -waters, my friend." Dacent Smith was looking at him -with an expression of raillery in his keen eyes. -Nevertheless he was saying inwardly: "I like you, Manton; -you are a man after my own heart. There is a good deal -of humour, as well as courage and intelligence, hidden -behind that good-looking face of yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Manton," he said, "tell me about Manwitz. -Are you in touch with him again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have his address, sir, and an invitation to go to -him whenever I wish—that is, whenever the cocaine -habit seizes me violently."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," remarked the elder man. "Whenever the -craving is violently upon you, you go to Manwitz and he -supplies your want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is amazing," went on the chief, "the way these -fellows manage to secure these drugs. Perhaps, later, -Manton, you will be able to enlighten us upon that little -matter; but in the meantime Cherriton is your chief -responsibility."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cherriton showed a particular anxiety about his -overcoat, sir, containing Treves's letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John gave a brief report of the events of the previous -evening, and Dacent Smith made one or two notes on a -slip of paper marked M. 15.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John had finished, the elder man leaned back in -his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will take you some days—perhaps weeks," he -said, "to get the hang of things with us. At present you -are to play a lone hand. There is a chain of German -emissaries working against us—some traitors and some -spies—who pass information from all our dockyards to -London, and thence to Germany. I want you to get -into contact with one of the links of this chain—any link -will serve our purpose. You must do all you can to keep -the confidence of Cherriton and Manwitz. If they set -you upon any task, carry it through absolutely. If -papers or documents are given to you to be delivered -elsewhere, don't fail to act absolutely according to their -instructions. If you can get a sight of the documents, -and memorise them during transit, do so, of course. -This applies to letters or documents which may be -handed to you by strangers—other German spies. Do -you understand the importance of all this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John assured him that he did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It appears to me, sir," he added, "that by doing this -I shall myself become a sort of link in their chain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The great man looked at him with eyes of approbation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," he responded; "that is what you will be. -Information is leaking out of England day by day, hour -by hour—rippling along these chains of which I speak."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later, John took his departure from the -chief's sumptuous bachelor apartments. He had learned -many things that amazed him, and one of these things, -which filled him with fury and loathing, was that there -were indeed traitors in unexpected places, that there were -British-born people, few, but active, who were willing to -sell their country into the power of the enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope it won't be my destiny to run across one of -these gentry," thought John; "for even the chief -himself would find it hard to make me keep my hands off -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet that night, in a few brief hours, he was to find -himself in contact with just such a traitor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reaching the corner of Jermyn Street, after his -departure from Dacent Smith's rooms, John hailed a taxi and -drove to Hampstead Tube at Tottenham Court Road. -Here he took train to Hampstead, and made his way -towards the address Manwitz had given him. The -address was Cherriton's, and when John arrived there he -found that the unamiable captain occupied a suite of -rooms in a large, old-fashioned house near the Heath. -The house was maintained by a retired butler, who -received John at the door. The butler ascended to a -handsomely furnished, spacious drawing-room on the -first floor. Here Manners was seated at a grand piano, -and Cherriton, deep in an arm-chair, was reading an -English Pacifist pamphlet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that a telegram?" asked Cherriton, as the door -opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir," answered the man; "it is a Mr. Bernard -Treves called in to see Mr. Manners."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two minutes later John stepped into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you get your overcoat?" he asked, shaking -hands with Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fair man nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Many thanks," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had spent the earlier part of that day inquiring into -the existence, status, and habits of John Manton. He was -still not quite satisfied as to his visitor's release from -Scotland Yard, and at that very moment he was awaiting -a telegram from the Isle of Wight which would either -increase his suspicions or remove them altogether. In the -meantime, he preferred to trust John to a certain extent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have come at an opportune time, Treves," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was seated now, and this time accepted a cigarette -from the Baron's case. Suddenly, Rathenau looked him -full in the face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You and I, Treves," he said, "have both been -treated damnably!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Damnably!" answered John, wondering what was -coming. The other continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there comes a time, Treves, eh, when the worm -turns? You turned and I turned! You cast in your -lot with our friend Manners, who knows how to appreciate -loyalty! Manners," he continued, in the ironical tone -that was his general habit, "fat and stupid and lazy as -he is, is always willing to pay for loyalty!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked into the Baron's thick-skinned, pallid -face, into the steel-like eyes, and smiled inwardly. A -pause came. John leaned forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cherriton," he said, "what are you leading up to?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners, from the piano-stool, spoke up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you see, Cherriton—he is sharp, our friend Treves. -Tell him what you want, Cherriton, straight out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose, came, for all his great bulk, softly across the -room. He laid a fat hand on John's shoulder and looked -down at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," he half whispered, "you shall have all -you want of everything. Money—and the other thing. -I want you to throw in your lot with me as the good -Captain has done. That note," he continued, still in the -half whisper, "you gave me in regard to the sailing of -the </span><em class="italics">Polydor</em><span> was well appreciated in certain circles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to hear that," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was good service," continued Manners, "but -there are bigger things afoot." He paused a moment, -then walked round John, and seated himself on a sofa -quite near. "You have heard, no doubt," he continued, -"of the </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span>——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean the new Grey Star liner?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manners nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A monster ship—a wonder ship! Forty-eight -thousand tons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He uttered the words slowly, rolling them unctuously -over his tongue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nearly as big as the </span><em class="italics">Vaterland</em><span>," John said, and for -the life of him he could not help looking across at -Cherriton's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Cherriton was quick as lightning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Vaterland</em><span>?" he repeated. "You mean the -German ship?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John returned his attention to Manners. He could feel -the web closing about him—the web in which Dacent -Smith had ordered him to entangle himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span>," said Manners, "is to sail one day -quite soon, but your Admiralty has grown doubly cunning -of late. As yet we know not either her port of departure -or the hour of departure!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John noticed that the fat man's tones deepened as -he spoke; excitement gleamed in his eyes. He leaned -forward and laid a fat hand on Bernard's knee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves, my boy, I trust you—eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly!" answered John, truthfully. "I want -you to trust me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good!" exclaimed Manners, uttering the word -thickly in his throat. "Now, you will understand -Cherriton and I cannot appear in certain places, but -with you—it is different with you—eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite," said John. "I can appear anywhere without -suspicion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton, who had remained silent, again took control -of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What Manners and I want you to do," he said, "is -to stay a few days at the Savoy Hotel. A Dutch -gentleman is giving up Room 104C. You are to take that -room, and stay at the hotel at Manners's expense."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There will be no need for you to stint yourself. -What is more, you will have no duties whatever to -perform!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John lifted his eyebrows in genuine surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't quite see what help I can be in that case!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are hoping that the matter will resolve itself," -said Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—yes!" intervened Manners, "everything will -resolve itself beautifully. All you have to do now, my -dear boy, is to say that you accept the——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The invitation," intercepted Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John thought there was nothing easier in the world -than to accept an invitation to stay, free of expense, at -a first-class hotel, and with no duties to perform. He -said as much to Manners, and two nights later found -him the occupant of the room 1046, a delightful Louis -Seize bedroom overlooking the Embankment. He had -spent a day and a night at the hotel, and no incident -whatever had occurred. On the evening of the second -night, however, after dinner, John seated himself in the -foyer and ordered coffee and cigarettes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently, in the great crowd moving, laughing and -talking near him, John observed a politician who at -various periods in the past had loomed importantly in -the public eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is even more ugly than his photographs," thought -John, watching the important personage move among -his friends. John did not like Beecher Monmouth's -smile; altogether he disliked the man on the instant, -and was the more astonished to notice that a strikingly -beautiful woman of thirty, wearing a glittering diamond -necklace and diamond ear-rings, moved towards him -and slipped her arm through his. The woman wore a -deeply decollété evening dress of a shimmering silk that -looked to John now green and now blue. He noticed -her flash a smile into Beecher Monmouth's face. He -saw the politician put her hand into his. Then -recollection came to John. The woman was Beecher Monmouth's -wife, a beautiful woman thirty years his junior, who had -appeared from nowhere and married him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She certainly is a beautiful woman," thought John. -"A case of Beauty and the Beast!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, to his utter amazement, Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's eyes met his. She slid her arm from her -husband's, and made her way quickly through the crowd -to John. He felt his heart-beat quicken. A moment -later Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was holding out her hand -towards him. She flashed a smile into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Mr. Treves," she said, in a voice that was -low and intimate, "I have been looking for you all the -evening!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later she was shaking hands with John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must fly now," she added, "but you must come -and see me to-morrow—six o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later she was hurrying back towards her -husband, her gown shimmering and gleaming as she went. -There was something in the palm of John's hand—something -that had passed from Mrs. Beecher Monmouth to -himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Holding his hand below the table and free from -observation, John saw that the something Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth had passed into his hand was a slip of paper on -which was pencilled: "</span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span>—three o'clock -to-morrow. Route 28."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was conscious of a quite definite thrill. His -nerve was of the best; he had accepted the momentous -slip of paper without any outward sign of disturbance. -Indeed, he had smiled back into Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -eyes in a manner that had won that lady's sincerest -approbation. Nevertheless, he was not inwardly calm. -He felt that fate, or destiny, had seized him suddenly in -its relentless grip. The slip of paper was still in his right -hand, concealed beneath the level of the table. For -some minutes he drew at his cigarette, then, carefully -taking out the pocket-book, laid the slip in its leaves, -and replaced the book in the inner breast pocket of his -coat. For some minutes longer he retained his seat, -leaning back in the delicate gilt chair. His gaze wandered -among the brilliant and fashionable crowd moving about -him. The gentle murmur of music mingled still with -the chatter of voices, and twenty feet away he caught -the gleam of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's ear-rings, the -scintillation of her superb diamond necklace. She was -talking to her yellow-skinned and unprepossessing -husband, but her attention was entirely and solely fixed -upon John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their eyes met, and John was obliged to concede, for -the second time, that she was a woman of exceptional -beauty. The art of her coiffeur, and, possibly, the art -of her complexion expert, had wrought its best for her. -Nevertheless, she would have stood out among any -assemblage of young and prepossessing women. Her -husband quite visibly adored her, and every word she -condescended to transmit to him was received with a -quick, responsive smile on his part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was thinking rapidly, wondering and speculating. -Was it possible that Beecher Monmouth knew of the -existence of the little slip of paper that reposed in his -pocket-book? Beecher Monmouth, who had sat on -numerous committees, who had more than once stood -in the running for an under-secretaryship? The thing -seemed utterly incredible!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As these things flashed through John's mind, realisation -slowly came to him that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was -observing him with close intensity, under slightly lowered -lids.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rose, and as he did so the lady flashed a brilliant -smile towards him—an intimate, understanding smile, -full of meaning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I knew what you meant," thought John, as -he made his way through the throng out towards the -cloak-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The circulating door received him, and he passed out -into the dim light of the Strand. There was a crowd, as -always at that hour, and a young man who followed -closely at his heels found difficulty in keeping him in sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was burning once more to look at the information -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had conveyed to him. But -caution forbade anything of the sort. He was determined -that this, his first swim in deep waters, should achieve a -successful issue. His chief desire in life was to make good -in Dacent Smith's eyes, and, moreover, obeying his chief's -instructions, he had already indelibly impressed upon -his memory the portentous sentence: "</span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span>—three -o'clock to-morrow. Route 28."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The word "treachery" floated into his mind, and filled -him with rage. Until now he had been outside—one of -the public. But to-night the curtain had been drawn -aside. He felt himself engaged in the secret fight which -is for ever taking place beneath the surface—the fight -between our own secret service and the spies and traitors -in the pay of the other nations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Hampstead, John emerged from the Tube and -made his way through the darkness of Well Walk. -Presently he turned to the left, through an alley, crossed -a square of shabby-looking houses, and ascended a further -closely-built, narrow street, leading towards Cherriton's -residence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man who had followed him from the Savoy -was still in his wake. At this point, however, he -apparently ceased his pursuit, and vanished up a side alley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had been aware of footsteps for some -minutes, halted and looked behind him. The road was -empty, and the suspicion that had been growing on him -vanished. Nevertheless, he laid a hand on his hip -pocket, assured himself that he was prepared for -eventualities and moved forward again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give this nefarious bit of news to Cherriton, then -hop down to Dacent Smith and report the fact as quickly -as I can," thought John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He reached the top of Christ Church Road and -paused to recollect which turning was the right one. -At that moment some one moved in the shadow of -the church railings near him, and before John could -turn his head a doubled fist smote him heavily. The -attack was so sudden, unexpected and swift that before -he could in any way retaliate a second blow had been -delivered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His assailant leaped through the air, clasped two -strong hands round his neck, and fell into the road, still -gripping for all he was worth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two struggled ignominiously, and John became -aware that the stranger, who had released one hand -grip, was groping for the precious pocket-book. For -the first time John was able to aim a blow, then, with a -violent twist, he drew himself uppermost, and plunged -his knee heavily into the other's chest. In the dim -light he observed that his opponent was young. John -was already aware that he had met no mean antagonist, -and he was taking no chances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The downward blow he now delivered on the other -man's countenance staggered him for a moment. He -wrenched himself free and stood upright on his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His enemy was prone, but only for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got a good deal of spirit, my young friend," -said John, through his teeth, "but you'll get nothing -from me, except another punch like the last! Now, -get up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," returned the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose and began to dust his clothes carefully. John -did not like the man's attitude. He was quite obviously -preparing to make another attack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," commanded John, moving back a pace, -"don't try that with me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stepped back and reached for the Colt weapon that -reposed in his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should hate to do anything drastic," he continued; -"but if you make it a habit to leap at people in the dark, -and to aim half-arm jolts at strangers, you must take the -consequences."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am prepared to take anything that is coming to -me!" responded the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke almost jauntily, and John admired his spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I evidently did not hit you quite as hard as I -thought," John remarked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite hard enough," responded the other, "but -please don't shoot, because——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, to John's amazement, and with the utmost -daring, he leapt forward like a flash and seized John's -pistol. There was a swift, fierce struggle. The moment -was one for quick decisions. The stranger held the -weapon by the wrong end, and John knew it. -Unexpectedly he let go, and simultaneously landed a heavy -left on the young man's downbent jaw. He followed -with a right, and then another left. He was as busy as -he had ever been, and he knew he was fighting for his -entire future, possibly for his life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've had enough," gasped the stranger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He reeled away, and seated himself on the farther side -of the narrow street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John searched about, picked up the weapon from the -middle of the road and pocketed it. Then he buttoned -his coat, after carefully satisfying himself that the -pocket-book was still in its place, and prepared to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night," called the other, seated on the edge of -the pavement, as he went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, however, was in no mood for persiflage. He -took himself off, walking as swiftly as he could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He certainly doesn't lack pluck," mused John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later he reached the large house wherein -Cherriton had his abode.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to see Captain Cherriton at once," he said, -when the door was opened to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found Cherriton alone in the big drawing-room. -He was in evening clothes, and was wearing comfortable -house slippers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So it's you, Treves?" exclaimed the German as the -door closed. "Come in, and I'll give you a drink of -whisky; that is always acceptable, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Always," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton was looking at him intently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a slight cut on your forehead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there? It must be a scratch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John applied his handkerchief to the slight abrasion, -then slipped off his overcoat and took a drink of whisky -and soda.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have some news for you, Cherriton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"News?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other flashed a swift glance at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John slowly drew out the pocket-book and produced -the slip of paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wanted to know when the </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span> sailed out, -and by what route."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton was suddenly and unfeignedly impatient.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it you know?" he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the Savoy to-night," John said quietly, "this -was handed to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He passed the slip of paper into the German's eager -fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gott!" exclaimed Cherriton, utterly absorbed. -"You got this from——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three o'clock to-morrow," mused Cherriton. "There -is not much time for us to act!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked suddenly into John's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a woman she is!" he exclaimed. "Invaluable—invaluable!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Invaluable!" echoed John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton laid a hand on John's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep your hold on her, my dear Treves. Your work -to-night has been excellent!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Excitement had brought an unusual gleam into his -hard eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will do great things for you yet!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He crossed the room and rang the bell imperiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My coat and hat," he commanded of the butler when -the man appeared. "When Mr. Manners returns, ask -him to wait up for me."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-ix"><span class="large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The hour was eleven o'clock. Dacent Smith was, as -usual, up to his ears in work. Very little of the real -work, conducted by him on behalf of the Department, -was dispatched at the office. If he possessed a weakness -at all, it was a weakness for the luxury of his own suite -of rooms and for the benign, competent aid of Grew. -Servant and master were each equally devoted to the -other, and yet even Grew was only vaguely aware of -the greatness, of the importance of the stoutish, bland, -keen-eyed gentleman who was his master.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Dacent Smith's elbow a green-shaded electric lamp -cast a bright light on the papers beneath his hand. -The chief wrote neatly and carefully, and when the door -opened and Grew came softly in he did not lift his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Treves to report, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll see Mr. Treves immediately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith raised his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Grew, please ask the gentleman who is in the -other room to wait a little longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two minutes later John found himself alone with the -chief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith motioned him into one of the deep, -leathered-covered arm-chairs, opened a silver box of -Egyptian cigarettes, and pushed it towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he questioned, wheeling his chair and looking at -John much as an astute physician might look at a patient; -"I can see by your expression," he went on quickly, -"that you have something of importance to report."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think so," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the foyer of the Savoy to-night, sir, Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth"—an almost imperceptible change of -expression occurred on Dacent Smith's smooth -features—"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth," continued John, "passed -a slip of paper into my hand. I assumed at once that -the paper was meant for either Manners or Cherriton, -and, obeying your instructions, I delivered it at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You memorised it first?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith's tone was almost sharp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was very short, sir. I can remember it exactly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith pushed a pencil and block of paper -towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you had better write it down immediately," -he said. "If you visualise it in writing you will be less -likely to have forgotten or misplaced a word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rose, and bending over the desk wrote the exact -words of the message Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had -conveyed to him. When he came to the word </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span>, -Dacent Smith whistled softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have done very well, Treves," he said. He -suddenly looked into John's face. "You must better -your acquaintance with Mrs. Beecher Monmouth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have an appointment with her for to-morrow night," -answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith glanced at a little gilt clock on the -mantelshelf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we shall be in time!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is exactly what Cherriton said," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith was silent for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves," he said, "if the </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span> sails to-morrow -at three o'clock by Route 28, which is their code for the -North Ireland route, there will be another disaster for us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was silent a moment and John put a question that -had troubled him somewhat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if she doesn't sail at that hour," he said; "if -she is suddenly delayed or dispatched by another route, -won't that arouse their suspicions?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith looked at him for a moment, then smiled -quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," he said, "we shall not be quite so obvious as -that, Treves, otherwise they would come to suspect a -leakage. What will occur is this: I shall communicate -with the Admiralty at once, and some time to-morrow -morning an accident will happen—quite a small accident—to -the </span><em class="italics">Imperator's</em><span> boilers. The news of the accident -will be well spread throughout the crew and the deck -hands. Thus the </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span> will be unavoidably delayed -and will not sail at three o'clock to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose as he finished speaking and went quickly out -of the room. When he returned he was obviously much -easier in his mind. With slow deliberation he replaced -himself in his chair at the desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now give me details of your interview with Cherriton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John stated what had occurred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anything else to report?" asked Dacent Smith, -looking at him with a penetrating glance. "I see you -have a scratch on your forehead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered John. "It occurred in Hampstead; -a young man attacked me and endeavoured to get my -pocket-book!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that is rather alarming!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was rather sudden," John confessed, "and he -was a particularly energetic person."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you know him again if you saw him?" asked -Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I should," answered John. "He was about -my own height, but more slenderly built. Rather a -good-looking fellow, well dressed. He was a most -energetic and audacious opponent," he continued, -becoming unexpectedly expansive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Audacity is sometimes a fault!" observed Dacent -Smith. "Just sit where you are a minute, Treves; I -want to introduce you to some one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He crossed the room and opened the door. John -noticed him beckon to some one, and a moment later -a young man in evening clothes stepped into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith led the new-comer towards the hearth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain," he said, speaking to the young man, -"this is Mr. Treves, who is now a member of our service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rose to shake hands, and found himself looking -into the smiling face of a young man of twenty-eight, a -young man with dark brown, daring-looking eyes, a -sun-browned skin, and a dark moustache. The stranger's -face was humorous, and on the lower part of his left -cheek was a contused redness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As John and he shook hands, John uttered an -exclamation of astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, you're the man who attacked me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't know about that!" smiled the Captain, -cheerily; "it looks to me as if the attacking was -mostly on your side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must say," John continued, "you put up quite a -good fight, but I don't quite see the point. If you were -acting on behalf of the Department, why did you attack me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced at Dacent Smith, and the great man undertook -an explanation. "The whole thing was a slight -mistake. Your new acquaintance, known to us as -Captain X., was under my orders, his avocation to-night. -He saw Mrs. Beecher Monmouth shake hands with you. -He also observed you—and he says, very neatly—put -something in your inner breast pocket. He had never -seen you before, but he naturally jumped to the -conclusion that you were in league with this particular -fashionable lady, whom he had been sent to watch, hence -his mistaken attack on you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned again to his late antagonist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry if I hurt you!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did hurt me abominably," retorted Captain X. -"I am not much of a pugilist and that half-arm jolt, or -whatever you call it, has my sincerest admiration."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The luck was on my side," returned John politely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the misdirected energy on mine," smiled the -Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith moved to the table, took up a sheet of -paper, folded it, and handed it to Captain X.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," said he, "we will return to business."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At nine o'clock the following evening John found -himself in a lady's boudoir, a room heavy with the odour -of Russian cigarettes. The neat, capped foreign maid -who had ushered him into the apartment had removed -herself, closing the door softly behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The room was not large, and every effort of a -somewhat exotic taste had been put forth to create an -atmosphere of intimacy. It was a room, as it were, planned -and arranged for secret meetings. The carpet was thick; -a while polar bear rug extended itself from the hearth, and -beyond the hearth, running along the wall, was a divan -covered in heavy silk of Chinese blue. A Chinese -</span><em class="italics">kakemono</em><span> of brilliant colours—red, orange, azure, green, and -gold—covered the wall behind the divan. The general air -of the place was one that did not appeal to John in the -least. He did not care a button about exotic boudoirs. -Neither did he care for Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, who -to-night was wearing a Chinese overgown as brilliant and -sumptuous in hue as the </span><em class="italics">kakemono</em><span> that covered the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had been seated on the divan when John entered. -She rose now and came towards him, with the pink light -softening the cold splendour of her beauty. There was -no doubt about her beauty—John was prepared to admit -that even at this second meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bad boy to be so late!" breathed Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, squeezing his fingers in hers. She drew him -towards her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The moment was a delicate one for Manton. What -Treves's relations had been with this woman he could not -guess. But it was his business to find out. It was -indeed his business to find out many things about her. -For months the Intelligence Department had held her -in suspicion, but Dacent Smith's most brilliant assistants -had failed to make headway in her case. She was -slippery as an eel—quick-witted, cunning, daring and -resourceful. In that moment, as she drew John towards -her, she suspected a ruse. But there was no ruse. She -looked up, her brilliant eyes searching him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you nothing for me?" she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was only one thing to do, only one safe course -to take, and John took it. He, as it were, plunged, and -risked the consequences. He put his arms about her shapely -shoulders and pressed a kiss upon the upturned lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no! I didn't tell you you could kiss me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said something very like it!" laughed John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a bad, daring boy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faint heart never won anything worth having," -returned John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth returned to her divan and -disposed herself comfortably. "You bad Bernard, you -must sit in that low chair at once, and tell me all you -have been doing lately!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She lifted a cigarette case from a low, ivory-topped -table. John took one, noticing that they were the -excellent cigarettes Treves had been in the habit of -smoking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me what you have been doing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John mused, and the woman went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, you looked rather handsome last -night at the Savoy." She paused and became coyly and -softly wistful. "I dislike handsome boys; they are so -conceited as a rule."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I can keep her talking like this for a while," -thought John, "I shall not get into deep water!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a silence, during which the lady luxuriantly -smoked her Russian cigarette. Then she looked at John -with her slow, low-lidded smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Talk," she commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I prefer to hear you talk," said John. "Tell me -what you have been doing lately—to-day, for instance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lady pondered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, to-day the Ogre gave a luncheon party."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John guessed that the Ogre was her unprepossessing -husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Ogre gave a luncheon party, and among others -we had Lady Rachel Marlin, a delightful chatterbox. -Her husband's in the Navy, you know. I could listen to -her talk for hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't doubt it," thought John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After tea," resumed she, "I went to my Red Cross work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was wary. The fact that she did Red Cross work -surprised him, but possibly Treves had been aware of the -fact, and it would be unsafe for him to express his surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence for a moment until John hit on a -safe question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you go to the same place?" he inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, the Officers' Hospital, you know. They are -such dear, delightful fellows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She told him no more about the Officers' Hospital, -and he put another question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you done this evening?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been boring myself to death until you came. -And now you make poor me talk and don't entertain -me in the least!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly she lifted her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you aren't in one of your moods?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no," said John, quickly. "What makes you -think that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him long and steadily. He sustained -her gaze; her brilliant, hard beauty smote his -consciousness again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember how awful you were at first, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose I was pretty awful," answered John, -wondering what Treves had done to earn himself that -character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Mrs. Beecher Monmouth ceased her scrutiny -and broke into a laugh, a long tinkle of laughter that -showed all her fine teeth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a boy you are," she said. "Do you remember -that night when you swore and tore about this room -like a madman?" She laughed again, as though in -memory of a scene that had been grotesquely ridiculous. -Somehow, in that moment John felt his instinctive -dislike of her intensify. He saw her as an utterly -cold-blooded traitor to her country. Only forty-eight -hours earlier she had slipped into his hand information -that had been intended to doom a great ship to disaster. -The slip of paper that had so astoundingly come into -his possession had in itself constituted a vile blow at -the safety of England. And here was the woman who -had safely engineered that atrocity, who had acted as an -intermediary in Germany's pay. And this same woman -was smiling at him in her Grosvenor Place boudoir, -surrounded by all the luxuries of life, the wife of a -politician of some eminence, who had only recently been -in the running for an under-secretaryship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thought flashed into John's mind—was Beecher -Monmouth, M.P., also a traitor? He did not know. -But he was prepared to risk a good deal to find out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once more he turned his attention to the woman before -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was rather weak of me," he said, "to act the -way I did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was as good as a melodrama," replied she. "You -said you were ruined, and swore you'd end everything! -I forget whether it was to be the river or in some less -pleasant manner. Called yourself a traitor——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Traitor!" repeated John—he wanted to know more of this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Melodrama again," responded Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. -"However, you calmed yourself in the end. -You became your own delightful, foolish self again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," said John, and for the life of him he could -not help saying aloud, "and you were able to twist me -round your pretty fingers!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him with one of her quick looks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, that is delightful of you to say pretty things -to me. Do you know," she continued, leaning towards -him, "you have improved immensely—you are quite -changed! Before you really came to us," she adopted -a note of seriousness, "you were really too dreadful for -words. You raved against the army, that had treated -you so abominably, and yet would not throw in your lot -with us. Oh, you were very difficult, </span><em class="italics">mon ami</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now?" inquired John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, now, you are quite another man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad you think that," said John aloud, and to -himself he added, "my clever lady, you never spoke a -truer word in your iniquitous life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The change in you is so marked," went on Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, "that Captain Cherriton actually -doubted your loyalty to us. He regarded your escape -from Scotland Yard authorities as so sudden."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," protested John, "but I was mistaken for -another man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, I know that, you silly boy! But Cherriton -could not rest satisfied until he had discovered that -there actually existed a person called John Manton, and -that you had really been mistaken for this personage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John made a mental note that in Cherriton he had an -adversary of no mean order.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope," said he, "now that Captain Cherriton has -discovered my story to be true, he won't suspect me -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As for that," responded the lady, "he suspects his -own shadow. But you are very high in favour just at -the moment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His favour is worth having?" probed John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall discover that," said Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth. Her tone suddenly became fervent, almost -exalted. "After the war there will be great things for -us all. Now is the time to sow; then will be the time -to reap the harvest!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The expression of her face had changed. A dark, -fierce light seemed to illumine her features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall win yet! We are winning now, but the -end will be swift!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The end of some people," thought John, "will be -devilishly swift!" He was thinking of Manners, of -Cherriton, and of the lady before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think will happen?" he inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They will come here, of course," she retorted, -suddenly standing erect beside the divan and speaking with -fiery and passionate intensity, "they will come -here—my people!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your people?" interjected John, quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My people," droned she, with a lift of her head. -"You didn't know that before? But you are one of -us, and I can trust you now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But everybody thinks you are an American," observed -John, recalling what Dacent Smith had told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite true—they do think that, and for convenience -sake I am an American—a rich American who married"—she -lifted a scornful lip and pointed towards the -door—"who married the Ogre."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were you working for the—the cause when you -married him?" inquired John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the sudden flame that had animated her appeared -to die away; she became once more her beautiful exotic -self.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have worked for the cause since——" she stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She, as it were, returned to earth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she said, when she had smoked a few -minutes in silence, "I have something to show you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She rose, crossed the room, and unlocked a buhl -cabinet. A moment later she returned to John, and -handed him an envelope. Within was a closely written -letter beginning: "Dearest Alice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As John glanced at the writing Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -came behind him, and laid her manicured finger-nail on -the bottom four lines of the first sheet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is all you need read," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The four lines at which she pointed ran:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you think Treves has the courage for the task -I will take your word for it—he shall be the man!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-x"><span class="large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John looked up quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this from Captain Cherriton?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From a far greater one than he," she answered slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John pricked up his ears, then flashed a glance at the -contents of the letter. But Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -was very quick; he caught only the words, "secret -session," and "ready by the twenty-eighth," when -Mrs. Monmouth dexterously laid her white hand over the -writing and drew it from his fingers. She folded it and -placed it carefully in the bosom of her dress. She wore -evening dress beneath her gorgeous Japanese rest gown, -and John noticed the coquetry with which she concealed -the letter from his view. He was young enough to be -affected by her beauty, and was yet old enough to suspect -she was playing a part—was, in fact, seeking to entangle -him for the benefit of the cause. He put her down in -that moment as a passionate, unscrupulous, dangerous -woman, to whom adventure was the very breath of -life. Moreover, he doubted her statement that she was -German. She was certainly not his idea of a woman -of Teutonic nationality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her arm that had been resting upon his shoulder still -remained there. The lady's handsome face was very -close to his; he could see deep into her smiling eyes, -and was not comfortable under the closeness of her -scrutiny. His resemblance to Bernard Treves was -striking, but it was not perfect enough, he feared, to -deceive the watchfulness of a woman who had evidently -been closely intimate with that young man. He -endeavoured to break the intensity of her gaze by leading -her back to her chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," she whispered tenderly, "have you nothing -to say to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are a thousand things I would like to say," -returned John, promptly. "Let me light you a -cigarette." He struck a match and placed one of her -buff-coloured Russian cigarettes in her fingers. As he held -the light, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth spoke on a new note -of seriousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard, I have been kindness itself to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John assured her that she had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When the others doubted you I clung to my belief -in you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have been wonderful!" said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are changed, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's impossible," answered John, "where you are -concerned." He again experienced the sensation—a -common one with him these days—that he walked upon -the edge of a precipice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have shown my confidence in you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean," proceeded John, "you have spoken up -for me to the great personage who wrote the letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Are you grateful?" inquired she, looking at -him quizzically. She had disposed herself upon the -divan in a graceful, languid poise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am more than grateful," said John. "But, tell -me, who is this great personage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lady's laughter sounded musically in the little pink -lighted room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear Bernard," she protested; "that comes -much later."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose," John said, feeling that a bold plunge -was worth while, "the personage is the head of the -German secret agents in England?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What makes you think that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Alice, you would not stand in such awe of -anyone less important than that." For some minutes—since -the time he had caught sight of the letter, in fact—he -had resolved to call her "Alice" at the earliest -opportunity. He was playing a part. He had taken up -another man's love affair at an unknown state of -development—a dangerous thing to do. However, the duel -between them, he believed, was to his advantage. -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had made a false step. She had -already revealed to him the existence of a high secret -power—a power far above and beyond Cherriton and -Manwitz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alice," he said, suddenly, drawing his chair a little -nearer and laying a hand on her arm, "tell me who is the -Great Unknown?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patience, patience, Bernard. You will hear, all in -good time." She lifted his hand from her arm and -pushed him gently away. At the same moment there -came a low knock at the door. A discreet pause followed -before Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's foreign maid, in cap and -white apron, entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The master's returned, ma'am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl spoke in a low tone, intended for her mistress's -ear alone, and immediately went out, closing the door -behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit over there," commanded Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -waving John towards a chair at the hearth. -"Sit over there, and be very good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John moved to the hearth. He wondered if Bernard -Treves had known the Ogre, or if an introduction was to -take place. The awkwardness of the situation was -solved for him a moment later, when the door behind him -opened. In a slender strip of mirror on the opposite wall -John saw the reflected figure of Beecher Monmouth, -M.P. The pink light softened a little the bilious yellow -of his skin. But he was still an unprepossessing object, -with his bald head, his long, pointed nose, and his -thin-lipped mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Monmouth rose as her husband entered, and went -towards him with hands outstretched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"William, darling," she exclaimed, "how nice of you -to come home so early. I must introduce you to Mr. Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rose and bowed. Beecher Monmouth put a -large bony hand in his. He had just returned from the -House of Commons, and looked weary and old; he -looked every one of his sixty-four years. John wondered -whether he ought to stay or not, but Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth solved the situation by holding out her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must come and see me again, Mr. Treves." Her -tone was almost motherly. He shook hands with her, -and saw her move towards her husband and slip her arm -through his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Husband and wife were standing together as the maid -conducted John downstairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a monument of treachery and deceit she -is," thought John, as he stepped out into the starlit -night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had pressed -her ungainly husband into a deep arm-chair, had -commanded that whisky and soda should be brought, and -was already holding the match that lit his cigar. Beecher -Monmouth watched her with admiration in his tired eyes. -He was prepared to sell his soul for her, and was never -weary of telling her that he was the luckiest man in the -world to have won her love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what did my William do to-night?" she inquired, -softly, when the whisky and soda had been placed -at his side, and he had helped himself to a somewhat -liberal dose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A most boring evening," said Beecher Monmouth. -"Irish question!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you saw no one interesting?" asked she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw Brackston Neeve in the lobby," answered her -husband. "There is some talk of a military expedition -to ——. I don't know whether it will come off or not. -The Cabinet, I believe, discussed it yesterday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did Brackston Neeve say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth took a sip of whisky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should I bore you with stupid politics?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They aren't stupid to me," she said. "You know -every tiny bit of your political life interests me -intensely." She settled herself in a low chair beside him. "Now you -must tell me everything Brackston Neeve said. He is -in the confidence of the Cabinet, is he not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her husband nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has the confidence of several members of the Cabinet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me everything, William...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later, when Monmouth had finished his -cigar and whisky, he rose wearily, kissed her, and went to -his room. Mrs. Beecher Monmouth waited until he was -safely out of the way, then, going to the telephone on the -buhl writing-desk, rang up a number.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that Doctor Voules?" she inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the other end of the telephone a deep voice answered -in the affirmative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I call upon you at eleven o'clock to-morrow?" -inquired Mrs. Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it important?" asked the voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, in the solitude of her room, -smiled slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall leave you to judge of that," she replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good," answered the voice. "I shall expect you -at eleven precisely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the following morning Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -quietly, but expensively, dressed, presented herself at the -hotel bureau.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three minutes later the lift door closed upon her and -she was wafted swiftly upward to the third floor. A -page boy conducted her along a corridor, opened a door, -and departed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The apartment into which she had been shown overlooked -the Haymarket. Decorations of white and gold -caught Mrs. Monmouth's vision. Seated at a desk from -whence he could look down upon the busy life of the -street below was a broad-shouldered, elderly man, who -laid down his pen as his visitor entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth hurried towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is so good of you to see me, doctor," she exclaimed, -effusively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not at all. I am charmed to see you," he -answered. He moved a little farther into the room, so -that prying eyes from the building opposite could not -observe him; then, with an air of great gallantry, he -bent over Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's hand and laid his -lips upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will sit down and tell me your news," said the -doctor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Monmouth accepted the offered chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor "Voules" was of middle height, sturdily, but -not heavily, built. He carried himself well, holding his -head high and looking squarely and masterfully before -him. His head was round, his strong, heavy-jawed face -was clean shaven, and his wide mouth drooped at the -corners. Both physically and intellectually the doctor -was a formidable figure, but the harshness of his countenance -was belied by a surface air of politeness—a politeness -which appeared to be assumed, and which sat ill upon -him. His air, despite his efforts of concealment, was one -of lofty authority.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will tell me your important news," he said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know that it is important," admitted -Mrs. Monmouth, "but my husband heard accidentally in the -House of Commons last night that there is talk of an -expedition to ——."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules's eyebrows moved very slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be grateful to know everything your husband -heard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Mrs. Beecher Monmouth told him exactly, word -for word, all she had managed to worm from her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He considers, then," inquired Voules, "that the -expedition is to become an accomplished fact?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did your husband learn anything else in regard to -this most interesting little adventure?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Monmouth shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," exclaimed Voules, "it would be most useful to -us if you could learn the name of the officer who is in -command of the expedition. You will keep that in -mind?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth assured him upon that point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, in regard to your protégé, Mr. Treves," observed -the doctor. "This young man, I understand, is very well -connected, and is the son of Colonel Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Monmouth nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My information is that his disappearance from the -British Army was somewhat rapid, and that fact, together -with his propensity for drugs, gradually brought him into -our service. I should like to see him," went on the -doctor, "to judge for myself; but in the meantime I can -make much use of him. I shall take you at your word -and give him important duties to perform."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," observed Mrs. Monmouth. "That is -extremely kind of you, doctor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules, who had seated himself, rose now and held out -his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My compliments to you upon your excellent work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two minutes later, with much politeness, he accompanied -her out of the room, along the corridor, and saw -her into the lift.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he returned to his own room, he opened the -door of an inner apartment and summoned a thin young -man, wearing tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles. The -young man was clean shaven and was possessed of a -somewhat small and receding chin, which gave him a -foolish aspect. He was not foolish in the least, however; -he was, on the contrary, extremely fox-like and alert. -The doctor's politeness vanished as he confronted the -young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Baumer," he commanded, "come into the other -room, please." He crossed to his desk near the window -overlooking the street, and seated himself. The young -man entered and stood at his side, awaiting instructions. -"You will make a note," said the doctor, "that -a Mr. Bernard Treves is to come to my house to-day week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Excellenz," answered the young man -deferentially. He began to write a note in pencil on a -small writing block he had produced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will also," went on the doctor, "inform Hauptman -Rathenau that I wish to see Mr. Treves's dossier -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Excellenz; but if I might be permitted to -suggest so much, Lieutenant Treves, whose family is well -known, would be a safer person to use for purposes of -association with the officers at Fort Heatherpoint."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But our excellent Cherriton was educated at Oxford," -said the elder man. "He is to all outward seeming an -Englishman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nevertheless, Excellenz," Baumer insisted, "I feel -we should be safer to employ an Englishman. There is -much freemasonry among the English, and there is -always danger, Excellenz, that some one who knew the -real Captain Cherriton may meet Herr Rathenau."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Heatherpoint," said Voules, "is one of our key -positions. You forget that, Baumer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Excellenz, I remember it perfectly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His superior was silent for a moment, then said, -quietly, "I have decided that Cherriton shall do this -work; he has greater experience. This time our -movements must be all perfect. Our staff work here, Baumer, -must be even superior to the staff work in France. We -must in no degree underrate our enemies." He was -silent a moment, pondering the great scheme that had -grown in his brain months earlier—the scheme that was to -strike a blow at the very heart of England. His orders -were to restore new confidence throughout Germany in -the failing U-boat campaign. Minutely, piece by piece, -he had worked out his daring and masterful plan. The -success of his country in discovering the sailing of British -ships; the strength and equipment of our distant -expeditions; the amount of munitions and arms being -manufactured—these things were in the daily routine -of espionage. But General von Kuhne was no believer -in defensive operations. He, like his friend Bernhardi, -was a disciple of Clausewitz—a believer in offensive -warfare. To strike, to strike hard and unerringly, after -minute preparation, was his ideal of strategy. Already, -for many weeks, he had been placing his pawns ready for -the great coup. Cunningly and with infinite patience he -had prepared for the great blow that was intended to send -a shudder through the British Isles.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xi"><span class="large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The little clock on Dacent Smith's mantelshelf chimed -the hour of seven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am as empty as a drum," exclaimed Captain X. -His slender figure occupied one of the Chief's deep -armchairs. He was smoking one of Smith's cigarettes, and -his handsome face and audacious-looking eyes were -upturned as he watched the smoke ascend. "How long -have we been here, Treves?" he inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three hours," answered John. He too occupied one -of Dacent Smith's deep chairs and smoked his Chief's -cigarettes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about asking old Grew if he knows anything," -continued Captain X——. He leaned over and pressed -his thumb upon the electric bell push. Almost -immediately, and quite noiselessly, the door opened and -Dacent Smith's big-boned manservant came into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Grew," said the Captain, twisting his head -to get a view of the tall servant. "When do you think -the War Council will break up?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't say, sir," answered Grew, looking at him -with a wooden expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean if you could, you wouldn't," returned the -Captain. "But I would like to tell you, Grew, that both -of us are most devilish hungry. Can you tell us anything -about food?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have orders to serve dinner at 7.30," answered Grew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For three hours John and his companion, acting upon -orders, had been waiting in Dacent Smith's room. The -Chief had been called suddenly to a meeting of the War -Council, and had not returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect there are big things afoot," observed John, -glancing at the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a bit unusual," answered the Captain, "for him -to stay so long. Perhaps he has ferreted out something -new, and is communicating what he knows to the mighty -ones."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He suddenly turned and looked close at John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you like our sort of work, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing to beat it," John answered. "My -only trouble is that I am apt to lose my temper. -Somehow I cannot stomach spies, but traitors always make -me see red."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain looked at him with smiling eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. The Chief would never -trust me there. She is too beautiful by far, eh, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John agreed that Mrs. Monmouth's beauty was undeniable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In my opinion," went on John's companion, "the -Department ought to put her out of harm's way. But -the Chief knows better. He has ordered supervision of all -the letters she posts, and she posts a good many."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door opened at that moment and Dacent Smith -himself came hurriedly in. He apologised politely for -his absence. The fact that he was head of a great -department, that he was indeed a great man, never -weighed with him in regard to his subordinates. Socially -he treated them all as his equals; only in matters of -discipline was he superior. He laughed as he looked at -his depleted cigarette-box, and then seated himself at his -desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a brisk movement he switched on the light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have had three hours of the War Council," he said, -speaking to both Treves and the Captain. "Now, Treves, -what is the news?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John told him that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was in -communication with a person whose name was unknown -to him; this person was evidently of great importance -to the German secret service, and was considering the -employment of John in a great undertaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is the great unknown?" inquired Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, sir," John admitted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder man tightened his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's acquaintances are becoming -increasingly interesting to us, eh, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe so, sir," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have been a little late in supervising her letters," -said Dacent Smith, looking across at Captain X. "However," -he said suddenly, turning the conversation, "that -is a matter outside Treves's duties. I have other and -more important work for both of you. This afternoon," -he went on, "I have submitted a number of reports to -the War Council, showing that certain of our defences are -in a sensitive condition. Something is occurring, and -news is leaking out at a serious rate." He was speaking -particularly to John. But it was evident that he wished -Captain X. to listen to the conversation. "There is a -leakage of news from certain fortified zones on the South -Coast. In the case of some of the lesser forts it matters -not a brass farthing what the enemy discovers, but at -other places—well," he continued, "it has been decided -this afternoon that a department is to direct its special -attention to the South Coast. Both of you gentlemen will -resume uniform almost at once. You will like that, eh, -Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very much indeed, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The War Council," went on Dacent Smith, "was -inclined to treat my fears a little lightly, but I am sure -I am right. There are secret operations preparing against -us on the South Coast, which are of a greater magnitude -than anything that has yet been attempted by German -espionage. I want you"—he suddenly rose and took -John's hand in his—"I want you, Treves, to put everything -into this—all your shrewdness and all your tact. -You will need every quality of nerve and mind in the work -I am going to entrust to you. And believe me," he said, -lowering his voice a little, "matters are very serious -indeed. We are out against a secret enemy, who has of -late increased his power amazingly. There is some one—a -new power—directing German espionage in this country, -which is a real menace to us. Up to now we have done -very well, but at present, I will quite frankly admit to -you, our position is delicate in the extreme. I dislike -preaching," he concluded in a lighter tone, "but I think -you know what I mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had gripped his hand cordially, answered -simply, "Yes, sir; I think I appreciate the danger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clock on the little mantelshelf chimed the half-hour. -Grew knocked at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dinner's ready," exclaimed Dacent Smith. "Come -this way, and I'll show you how a miserable old bachelor -lives."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the Saturday following John's first experience of his -Chief's excellent bachelor cuisine, two men sat in a little, -barely furnished room, four hundred feet above the sea. -There was no view from the single window of the little -apartment, the one-story building of which it formed a -part was deeply embedded and concealed between high -grass-covered mounds. Both men were beyond middle -age, one of them, in fact, wearing the gold stripes of -a naval commander, was over sixty years of age, a -trim-bearded, well-preserved officer, drawn for war service -from the reserve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lieutenant-Commander Grieves was chief naval officer -attached to the fort. His companion, Colonel Hobin, -was ten years his junior—a sharp, nervous, over-strung -little man. Hobin held the reputation of a first-class -officer; he knew every yard of Heatherpoint Fort, -which was his present charge. His big guns were as -children to him, and in regard to his subordinates he -was a strict disciplinarian, with a reputation for fairness -both to officers and to men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the present moment he was consuming marmalade, -which he took from its jar with a dessert-spoon and -spread on thick bread and butter. There were none of -the refinements of home in the mess-room at Heatherpoint. -A tablecloth existed, and a limited number of -knives, forks, and spoons. The chef of the fort was a -gloomy looking individual who had joined up at Liverpool -and plain and good was his motto.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't like it," exclaimed Hobin, suddenly. He was -pouring the Commander another cup of black-looking tea. -"I don't like the look of things at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor do I," said the Commander, "but the responsibility -is yours, and I think you did well to communicate -with the powers that be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The powers that be will do nothing," complained -Colonel Hobin; "they never do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If things are wrong at all," said the old naval -lieutenant, "somebody in the fort's wrong, for I'll bet -my hat nobody can get in and out without us knowing it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what is really troubling me," said the Colonel, -the frown deepening on his brow. "It's damnable, -Grieves, to think that we are being outwitted. I have -turned every man in the fort inside out, and they all seem -to me honest as the day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wasn't one of the men in the lower fort reported to -have a foreign accent?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was," answered the Colonel, with a bitter laugh, -"and I had him up and put him through a third degree -examination, with the result that his accent turned out to -be nothing more dangerous than an Irish brogue. He's -as loyal as I am, and when I mentioned the fact of the -signal book I believe if I hadn't been in uniform he would -have hit me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If we were one of those tin-pot forts over there," -returned the Lieutenant-Commander, jerking his thumb -contemptuously in a certain direction, "I wouldn't -mind, but we really count in the defences."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are the heart of this system of defence," returned -Hobin tartly, "and yet we go and lose a signal book. -If it was only that," he went on, "I might have thought -there was carelessness in it, but there are other things, -queer things, Grieves, that I cannot formulate into words -even to you. I put it all before the authorities. Whiston -listened as politely as he always does, and said he'd speak -to the Intelligence Department about it, but nothing will -be done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll have to do something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They won't," said Hobin. Colonel Hobin was constitutionally -inclined to pessimism, despite his ability. -"They won't," he said. And at that moment the door -opened, and a young lieutenant, who had that day -joined the battery, entered the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, sir," said the young man to Colonel Hobin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hobin nodded grumpily. The young man drew out -a chair, seated himself, and reached for the bread and -butter. Hobin, from the head of the table, handled the -teapot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Weak or strong?" he demanded of the new-comer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Weak," answered John Manton, who had been at -Heatherpoint a matter of four hours, and was taking -his first meal in the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lieutenant-Commander pushed the marmalade -pot towards him, and John began to spread it upon his -bread and butter, not quite so thickly as his Colonel had -spread it a minute or two before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything was in order in regard to John's presence -at Heatherpoint. Dacent Smith had arranged the whole -matter, and for the first time in his life John Manton, -who had once before been on the way to an officer's -uniform, found himself of commissioned rank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And for once, Colonel Hobin was mistaken in thinking -that the War Office and Intelligence Department had left -him entirely neglected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, how do you like Heatherpoint, Mr. Treves?" -inquired the old Lieutenant-Commander genially.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So far as I have got," answered John, "I am delighted -with the chance to be here." He spoke truthfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you've had six months of it, and been through -the winter," said the Colonel grimly, "with your -wind-gauge showing seventy miles an hour for weeks on end, -and the lighthouse siren never stopping booming, I am -afraid you won't be in quite the same cheerful mood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am cheerful by nature, sir," said the young man, -tucking into the marmalade. He ate heartily, and -by the time he had finished the Colonel was smoking a -cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lieutenant-Commander Grieves filled his pipe, lit it, -and, with a nod at the Colonel, sauntered out to his -quarters. For the first time John was alone with Hobin. -For some minutes there was silence, then the Colonel -spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will take the leave book to-night, Treves. Ask -Parkson about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can go now, if you like," said the Colonel. "Get -Parkson to show you the run of the place before parade -in the morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this point John rose mysteriously, opened the door -into the corridor and looked out. Then, to the Colonel's -surprise, he closed it again, and came quietly back into -the room. From the inner pocket of his coat he took a -long, narrow, yellow envelope, which he handed to Hobin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's this?" demanded the Colonel. He tore open -the envelope and began to read with furrowed brows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Colonel Hobin had perused the official-looking -letter a second and a third time, his brow cleared; he -lifted his eyes and looked at John with a new and keen -interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you are from the Intelligence Department?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had no idea of that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My transfer was effected as quietly as possible, sir, -with a view to arousing no suspicion. The letter is -merely my credentials from General Whiston."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Judging from this," said the Colonel, "General -Whiston has an extremely high opinion of your gifts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John tried to look as modest as possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am a great believer in luck, sir," he said, "and up -to now I have had plenty of it." He was thinking of -the saving of the </span><em class="italics">Imperator</em><span>, which had brought him so -many laurels from Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you'll bring luck to me," said the Colonel. -"I can promise you I need it." He was delighted that -the powers that be had really sent help, despite his -disbelief in them. His eyes were still upon John. He -liked the young man's frank expression, his cheerful -and easy manners and the bold poise of his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A good-looking, heftily-built youngster," thought -he. "I only hope he is as shrewd as he looks active."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, I suppose," he said aloud, "you want me to -tell you all the trouble?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to hear of anything, sir, that has aroused -your suspicions," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a tall order," answered Hobin. "Everything -has aroused my suspicions, and yet, if I put it into words, -it may look like nothing to you. Have you ever had the -sensation, Treves," he said, "that things were going -wrong around you, and yet you could not lay your -finger on a thing that is definitely wrong?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have felt that way sometimes," admitted John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the way I feel now," returned the Colonel. -Then, quite briefly, he gave John particulars of the loss -of a signal book, which, however, might have been due -to carelessness. Other things he told John were also -mere surmises and sensations. "I must explain," he -said, "that this fort, and Scoles Head opposite, are key -positions in our South Coast defences. If we were -incapacitated, the enemy would sneak in to —— and -wreak the devil knows what damage. Given a big -enough concentration of submarines, he could probably -get fifty to a hundred ships——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's hardly likely," John answered, "that he will -ever be able to sneak in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hobin was silent for a minute, looking John over -carefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would it surprise you to hear that we have already -been incapacitated?" demanded the Colonel suddenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He thrust out his chin truculently as though -challenging John to doubt him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How was that, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For an hour one morning last week the whole eastern -side of Upper Fort was out of action. I've been a -gunner for thirty years, Treves, and until now such a -thing has never occurred in my experience."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could it have been an accident, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In normal times," answered the Colonel, impressively, -"I would have said yes; now I say, no! Three of the -guns, numbers one, six and eight, in this battery"—he -jerked his head towards the south—"went wrong -suddenly. A cleaning squad was at work on number one, -and discovered that the gun could not be handled at all. -It was just after daylight in the morning. You know -how perfectly these six- and nine-inch guns are swung?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A child can swing them like a toy cannon. My own -boy's often done it," went on the Colonel. "Well, on -this particular morning the guns would not elevate. -Just lay inert, like dead masses of metal. Everything -was in order, both in the gun-chamber and engine house. -But the guns wouldn't budge, and for an hour this whole -upper fort was out of action. If the enemy had tried to -rush us at that time, we could have done nothing! I -was not quite so jumpy as now. Not quite so many -things had happened to arouse my suspicions, and I -blamed Ewins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is Ewins, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our chief gunner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did Ewins discover what was wrong?" John asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Neither Ewins nor any of us," answered the Colonel. -"What happened is a mystery to us all. Ewins was in -bed when the thing occurred, and, knowing how jealous -he is of his gun, one of the cleaning squad called him. -He came out of his hut half dressed. I hear from Parkson -that he was in a blind rage, and felt his gun all over, as -a mother may feel for a bruise on her baby; but he -could make nothing of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd rather like to see Ewins," said John, "if it can -be managed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is on duty now," responded the Colonel. "Come -along and make his acquaintance. But, for Heaven's -sake, don't run away with any idea that Ewins is a wrong -'un. Ewins is the best gunner on the South Coast, one -of the old rule of thumb school. He knows nothing of -trajectories or curves, and hardly ever looks at the wind -gauge. But he has made ninety-eight per cent. at a -submarine target doing nine knots."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was the range, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel told him, and John opened his eyes in -surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along," said Hobin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Together they left the mess-room, crossed a narrow, -asphalted pavement, ascended a short ladder and came -upon a gorgeous view of the ocean and the blue waters -of the Solent. Beyond, to the right, lay England, an -irregular coast-line, with swelling hills, green in the -foreground and blue in the distance. In the middle of -the picture, to the right, rose the tall tower of Ponsonby -Lighthouse. The tower gleamed white in the bright -sunshine. Colonel Hobin led the way along the edge of -a grass-covered cliff, and presently, below him, John -observed the long muzzle of a six-inch gun camouflaged -scarlet, blue and green.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's Ewins's special gun," explained the Colonel. -"You'll see he has the place of honour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The green cliff-top sloped stiffly here, and beneath -him John could see the big, circular iron gun platform, -and below it the ladder leading into the gun chamber. -On a parapet beyond the gun, and on the very edge of -the cliff, a sentry paced back and forth, his outline -picked out sharply against the blue of the sea that -murmured faintly four hundred feet below. At the -open breach of the gun itself another soldier was at work, -a man who was long and thin, and a little grey at the -temples. He was delicately wiping certain shining parts -of the weapon with an oiled rag. As the Colonel's feet, -followed by John, smote the iron platform, the soldier -drew himself erect and stood at attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Ewins," said the Colonel to John. John -greeted Ewins with a friendly smile. Until that moment -he had doubted him. Only a few days earlier he had -met one traitor in Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, and as -he and the Colonel approached the gun platform he -had been wondering if in Ewins he was to meet a second.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins was thin-faced, with a weather-reddened skin -and clear, brown eyes. He was a man in the late forties, -a typical old soldier. John, looking at him, wondered if -it was possible that he could have been corrupted, but -somehow he found it difficult to suspect the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Hobin made an excuse and left the two together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are in a grand position here, Ewins," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine, sir," answered the soldier. His accent was -British through and through. John gave him permission -to carry on, and Ewins closed his breech with a -heavy click.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Colonel has been speaking very highly of your -gunnery."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins looked up quickly, with an expression of pleasure -in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has he, sir?" He paused a moment and hesitated. -"It makes a great difference being under him, sir; he -sort of brings it out, if you know what I mean; puts you -on your mettle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John made a mental note of his admiration for the -Colonel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard about your trouble last week, Ewins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean Tuesday morning, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," John answered. "What was the trouble after all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins looked perplexed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It beats me fairly, sir. There was nothing wrong -when they called me—that is, there was nothing wrong -after I'd been here a minute or two. You know how she -works, sir." As he spoke he almost with a finger raised -the great muzzle of his weapon, then made a neat sweep -to right and left. "Well, she just lay here like a dead -thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose the explanation would be simple enough -if we only knew it," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't like it, sir. I was pretty wild that morning, -thinking some of these young recruits had been -messing about, but the same thing had happened to -number six and eight." He pointed to a lower platform, -beyond where the sentry was passing. "They went -wrong that same morning," he continued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And got right again in the same mysterious way?" -inquired John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't think any of your cleaning squad had a -hand in it?" inquired John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir; I talked pretty straight to them, but it -wasn't them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you have an enemy in the fort, Ewins?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old soldier smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know about that, sir," he said; "but everybody -seems pretty friendly with me. I have been here -a long time, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So I hear," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think anybody in the fort, sir," Ewins went -on, "would do a dirty trick on me like that. You see, -sir," he said, in a voice of intense seriousness, "it put -us out of Action."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was silent for a moment. For the first time the -full gravity of what had happened struck his consciousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll swear it wasn't an accident," continued Ewins, -emphatically. "Old 'Crumbs' said it was; but he -don't know anything about guns."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's 'Crumbs'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg pardon, sir; I meant Private Sims, the baker."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He said it was an accident?" pursued John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir. I lost my temper that morning, and when -I come here and found how things were, I gave one of -the squad a bit of a push."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was 'Crumbs' one of the squad?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, sir; he come in to bring me a lump of cake." -Ewins looked sheepish a moment. "You see, sir, I am -partial to cake, and he generally hands me a bit at odd -times. He was in the gun chamber when I got here, -sir, looking for me, with a bit of cake in his hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it was five o'clock in the morning!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was new cake," said Ewins; "he'd just baked it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you weren't supposed to be on duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir," answered Ewins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't 'Crumbs'—Private Sims—know you were -off duty?" probed John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins smiled again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He don't know much about soldiering, sir; they -never do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had further talk with the chief gunner, which -talk grew more and more technical as Ewins noticed -John's interest in his work. But after a good many -questions it still seemed to John that "Crumbs" walking -about with cake at five o'clock in the morning showed -an excessive benevolence. He felt he wanted to make -the acquaintance of "Crumbs." And before going back -to the Colonel in the mess-room, he looked in at the -bake-house, a single-storied building next to the kitchen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crumbs" was in a white apron and a white cap -when John entered and found him at work. The bake-house -was dark, the air warm and fragrant with a scent -of freshly-baked loaves. "Crumbs," with flour on his -eyelashes, and a heavy, drooping moustache, also powdered -with flour, turned as John entered. In his hands he -held a big iron tray of newly-baked loaves. John -introduced himself. He felt that every step he made must -be made with infinite caution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got a fine bakehouse here, Sims."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir; not so bad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hear you are a master hand at cake making."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, not exactly," deprecated "Crumbs." "I can -hardly say that." He placed his tray of bread on the -table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sergeant Ewins tells me he's very fond of cake," -went on John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crumbs's" eyes moved quickly. The momentary, -fleeting glance he cast at John was unobserved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sergeant has a sweet tooth, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So have I," answered John, with a smile. "Perhaps -you will make a note of that, Sims."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sims smiled. John noticed that his complexion was -sallow, that he was a loosely built, shambling man of -forty. There was nothing in the least suspicious about -him. No trace, so far as John could gather, of a foreign -accent. He went out of the bakehouse in a dissatisfied -frame of mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mystery of the guns was still a mystery.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, at parade, John ran his eye along the -men of the battery until it rested upon "Crumbs." The -man, with his sallow complexion and glassy eyes, struck -him as looking vacant and somewhat foolish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are either that, my friend," thought John, "or -most devilish cunning. I wonder which it is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made it his business during that day, and the days -which followed, to acquaint himself with every member -of the battery. Nothing, however, occurred to arouse -his suspicion or to give him the slightest clue to the -untoward things that had happened. He wrote a letter -to Dacent Smith reporting matters, and on the afternoon -of the third day he decided to go into Newport for an -afternoon's recreation. Colonel Hobin granted him -leave instantly—and then John changed his mind, and -decided not to go. He had no reason for staying in the -fort, other than that he wanted to be on the spot as much -as possible. He took a book from the badly-equipped -fort library, and went to his room. Here he flung himself -on the bed, and read for an hour or two. Save for the -never-ending moan of the wind and the grind of the -wind-gauge, the fort buildings were very quiet. Colonel Hobin, -Parkson, and another officer were on duty, a subaltern -was on leave, and in the four bedrooms that ran along -the corridor John was the only occupant. He was lying, -deeply absorbed in his book, when something made him -turn his gaze towards the door. To his amazement, he -saw the latch lift without noise. A moment later the -door moved cautiously open, and "Crumbs," in white -cap and apron, came softly in. For a minute the intruder -did not see John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Sims, what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crumbs's" mouth clicked shut. The start he had -received caused his head to jerk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want, Sims?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crumbs" smiled under his black, flour-speckled -moustache.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was the cake, sir," he said. "You told me you -were fond of cake, sir, and I just put a cake in the -mess-room for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rose from the bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there nothing else you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir, thank you," answered "Crumbs," moving -towards the door. John noticed, as he went, that his -nose had been flattened at the bridge, as though at some -time or other a heavy blow had fallen upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I only wondered," John went on, "why you came -into my room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Merely to tell you about the cake, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out, closing the door quietly behind him. -When the door was shut between himself and John, he -drew himself suddenly erect, and listened for a moment, -then moved quickly away down the passage.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xiii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"'Crumbs' is the man," thought John the moment he -opened his eyes next morning. During the night he had -been awake for hours pondering the situation, and this -was the decision he had arrived at. He decided, however, -to say nothing of his suspicions to Hobin or to anyone -else until "Crumbs" had further committed himself. -Possibly, after all, he was mistaken; only time could -tell. The first thing he did, however, when breakfast -was at an end, was to write a note to Dacent Smith, -asking that Private Sims's history might be discreetly -inquired into.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think Private Sims is not quite what he seems," said -John, concluding his letter. Nevertheless, if "Crumbs" -was the suspicious character John believed him to be, he -possessed an extraordinary talent for hiding his guilt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had pursued his investigations with such closeness -during the past days, he now felt that the time had -come when he might reasonably seek a certain amount -of relaxation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Therefore the morning of the tenth day saw him -briskly descending the long steps cut in the face of the -cliff to the lower fort. Here, immediately beyond the -fort gates, a hired car awaited him. Manton stepped -into the car after answering the challenge of the sentry, -and drove down the long, winding road. A second -sentry challenged him at the foot of the fort road, and -thereafter the car bowled merrily along until it reached -the gates of Colonel Treves's house at Freshwater.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was wondering what he should say to the old -gentleman. During the past weeks nothing had created -a deeper impression on his mind than the pathetic figure -of Bernard Treves's father. The old man, the soul of -honour, cursed with a worthless son, appealed intensely -to the sympathetic side of John's nature. John had -learnt something of Bernard Treves's recent life from -Dacent Smith. Following the discovery that the young -man had been associated with Manwitz and Cherriton, -he had been kept in a nursing home in strict confinement. -An attempt had been made to cure him of his drug -habit, with the result that he had suffered an utter -physical collapse, and now was lying seriously ill. John, -in discussing the matter with Dacent Smith, had -mentioned the old Colonel, and the deception that had been -practised upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When the time comes," the Chief had answered, -"you can either reveal your real identity to Colonel -Treves, or not, as you wish. In any case, I rather doubt -if his amiable son will appear on the scene again; that is -a matter entirely for the military authorities. From -what I hear," Dacent Smith continued, "the old Colonel -hasn't much of this life before him, and if he learnt the -truth about his son I know exactly what would happen. -He would not be able to face it. Either death would -mercifully carry him off, or——" John nodded, "or," he -thought, "he would seek the death he once offered me." John -saw now that the deception that had been practised -upon the Colonel at the instigation of his friend, General -Whiston, and Dacent Smith, was possibly the kindest -thing that could have happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door of the house, Gates, the elderly butler, -appeared in answer to John's ring. For a moment the -servant paused wide-eyed, staring at the erect figure in -uniform on the threshold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Master Bernard!" he exclaimed, "I didn't -recognise you for a minute. Come in, sir; I'll get your -luggage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There isn't any luggage. Is—is my father in the -library?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is he, Gates?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just the same as usual, sir." Then the old servant -forgot himself for a brief moment. "He'll be beside -himself with delight, sir," he said, "to see you like that, -back again in the Army, an' all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John moved to cross the wide hall, but Gates followed -him instantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I'd better break the news to him, sir; it's -a little sudden like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John followed him, and when the elderly butler knocked -at the baize-covered door of the library a minute later, -he heard Colonel Treves's voice from within. Gates -went into the room and closed the door behind him. -The old Colonel was seated in his deep chair near the -hearth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, sir," said Gates, crossing and -standing before him, "but Mr. Bernard has returned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Treves, who held a book on his knee, laid down -his big reading glass on its open page, and lifted his head -slowly. There was a stern light in his old faded eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't see my son, Gates!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pardon me, sir," protested the old servant, "I -think you would like to see him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Treves rose to his feet, felt for his stick, and -began to move feebly across the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is no son of mine, Gates," he said, as he went. -"You can tell him that. A liar and a humbug," he -said. "Always a liar and a humbug. No soul of truth -in him, no honour——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Gates, the faithful servant of thirty years, knew -his master well. He made no attempt to argue with -the Colonel, but moved quietly to the door behind which -John was waiting, and whispered, "Come in, Mr. Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John entered, and crossing the soft carpet laid his hand -on the old Colonel's shoulder. The Colonel turned -quickly, flinging up his head in indignation, then -something took place on his face that touched John to the -heart. The old firm lips quivered a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Bernard?" he asked. He came nearer, -peering at John, looking at the upright, uniformed -figure. "I can't believe it," he added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is true, sir," said John. "I received a commission -a month ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take my arm, boy," said the Colonel, suddenly; -"lead me back to the chair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John led him across to his deep chair, and Gates -softly went out of the room. When the Colonel was -seated, he fumbled for his strong glasses, and put them -on with fingers that shook visibly. Once again he looked -John over from head to foot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the good blood that tells," he said after a long -pause. Suddenly he broke into a laugh. "Do you -know, Bernard, boy," he said, "a minute ago I was -telling Gates you were no son of mine. You see, I -thought you had broken your promise; you broke it so -often before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That may be, sir," answered John quietly, "but -this time I managed to keep it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He permitted John to help him into his chair at the -hearthside, and John, at his bidding, rang the bell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gates," said the Colonel, when the old servant -entered, "serve tea up here; I and my boy will have it -together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Bernard, boy, tell me your news!" demanded -the old soldier, when Gates had left the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John gave a sketchy, vague account of his doings -during the past weeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so you are with Colonel Hobin. You must give -him my kind remembrances; we met thirty years ago, -when he was a subaltern at Aldershot. He had the -making of a good soldier, I remember." He talked on, -on general matters, and all the while John felt that his -mind was solely occupied with his pride and satisfaction -at seeing his son in uniform once again. In his excitement -and pleasure he forgot two letters that had reposed -on his desk for two days, waiting for John. Finally, he -remembered them. "I must give you your letters, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir," answered John, "I'll get them -myself, if you tell me where they are?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found the letters on the Colonel's desk, and -excused himself for reading them. The first letter began: -"Dear Bernard," and the first sentence ran: "You bad, -bad boy." John knew in a moment that it was from -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, and skimmed the four closely -written pages casually.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Have you seen the Great One yet? ... The Ogre is -always in the House of Commons now ... I am utterly -alone ... I wonder if any fine, handsome young man is -thinking of sending me a hundred Russian cigarettes, the -same as the last.... Next time you come, you must not -be nearly so bold....</em><span>—Yours, ALICE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"A very satisfactory letter," thought John, "if I had -happened to care two straws about her." A vision of -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's brilliant beauty came before -his eyes. It seemed strange to think that this woman, -in the heart of London society, was a traitor, using -her gifts of fortune and beauty for the nefarious purpose -of ruining her own country, but such was indeed the case. -What had been the original cause of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's treachery, John did not know; only afterwards -was the full truth made plain to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He opened the second letter, which was in a -handwriting unknown to him. The note was from Captain -Cherriton, to whom he had given this address when he -left London.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"DEAR TREVES," ran the letter—"</span><em class="italics">Will you please -call at Rollo Meads one day next week, Tuesday for -preference, at five in the afternoon? I shall be there, -and you will meet a new friend, Doctor Voules, who will -supply you with what you want.</em><span>" (He was referring to -the tabloids Manwitz had been in the habit of supplying -to Treves.) "* Our old friend,*" went on the letter, -"</span><em class="italics">who formerly supplied you, you will regret to hear, -was taken ill, and has gone away to the coast for a time</em><span>.</span></p> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Yours very truly,</em></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>"JOHN CHERRITON."</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John folded this letter carefully and placed it within -his pocket-book. A specimen of Cherriton's handwriting, -he inwardly decided, would be useful to Dacent -Smith. Half an hour later John took his departure, and -the old Colonel accompanied him to the door of the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, my boy," said the old man, gripping his -hand at parting, "come again soon"; then he lowered -his voice so that Gates, who was waiting at John's hired -car, could not hear, "Bernard, boy," said the Colonel -wistfully, "when you are tempted to go a little wrong, -just keep in mind that I am believing in you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir," John answered, "I won't forget -that." He stood at salute a moment, then ran down the -steps and sprang into the car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, sir," said Gates, the old butler.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye," cried John as the car whirled out of the -avenue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John reached the foot of Heatherpoint Hill, and -began to ascend the long slope towards the fort, it was -already seven o'clock. The sun lay low in the west, -and there was no wind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine visibility if there was any shooting for Ewins," -thought John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The car halted before the first sentry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friend," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pass, friend," answered the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute later, from his seat in the car, John was able -to see the south shore of the island, and obtained a -momentary glimpse of a strip of sand below, which was -accessible only to those within the area of the fort itself. -Looking down into the little bay three hundred feet -below, John was caught with admiration by the mirror-like -blue of the water, the languid white roll of the -waves. The little beach, as always, was deserted, -or at least, John thought so in the first moment. -But a second glance showed him that a soldier was -strolling about with apparent aimlessness down below. -The man was smoking a cigarette, and in the clear -evening air John could plainly see the white smoke. -So much he saw, when the man was lost to view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the fort, a minute later, John caught himself -wondering what soldier it was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Evidently somebody who is fond of his own -company," thought John. He went up to Commander -Grieves's look-out. The old naval officer was at the -long telescope. "May I have a squint through that, -sir?" John requested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By all means, youngster, by all means," returned the -old man; "here you are." He swung the telescope, -and John found that, to his chagrin, he could see nothing -of the man on the strip of beach below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want to see?" asked Commander Grieves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to look sharp down from here to the south," -John said. "Some one from the fort is walking down -there, and I'm wondering who it is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't see with this; I'll lend you my Zeiss," -returned the Commander. He took out a pair of binoculars, -and handed them to John. "We do not cover that -bit of shore," said Grieves, "either with the guns or with -the searchlights. It's of no importance, and isn't -navigable for anything drawing more than three feet of water."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John took the binoculars, and thanked him, then went -to the cliff edge. Here, moving with particular caution, -he began to focus his glasses. When definition seemed -to be right, he leaned carefully forward, and surveyed the -beach below. The soldier was still there. After pacing -with apparent aimlessness back and forward, he had -seated himself on the smooth strip of sand. At the -present moment the khaki figure was occupied in placing -a pebble on the sand at arm's length. He placed a -second small stone next to this, then made a span with -his fingers, and put a third pebble in a line with the -first and second. He made another span, and placed -down a fourth stone and a fifth beside it. His operations -were steady and systematic. He was absolutely absorbed -with his work. John, from that cliff top, watched him -for a full five minutes; never once did the soldier raise -his head. In khaki uniform, at that distance, he might -have been any soldier at the fort. Finally, however, -when he had finished his operations, which had grown -more and more interesting to John, he rose and looked at -his handiwork upon the smooth sand. Evidently he had -completed his task, whatever it was, for he turned and -continued his aimless strolling. This time he was pacing -towards the fort, and as he turned he lifted his eyes, -and swept the cliff in a swift, embracing glance. In an -instant John had recognised the sallow, upturned face -of "Crumbs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a full ten minutes he waited, holding himself back. -At the end of that time, however, he again cautiously -approached and looked down. Below him spread the -bright golden sands, a few chalk boulders were scattered -here and there, and the waves continued to roll and -break languidly as before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The figure of "Crumbs" had now vanished from the -sands. A steep, winding path ascended the cliff to the -fort, and it was upon that path that John again saw -Sims. It was a good twenty minutes' walk from where -"Crumbs" was to the fort itself, and John, after watching -him for a minute, lowered his glasses, rose and made his -way back to the mess-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Collins," he said to an orderly, "bring me the leave -book."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the leave book was in his hand he ran his finger -quickly down the list of names.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pte. Sims, eight o'clock," he read.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sims was on leave until eight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll wait and investigate," thought John, "when -he is safely in his quarters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went to his room after that, took the cartridges -out of his Colt automatic revolver and examined the -weapon closely. Having reloaded the pistol, he slipped -it into his hip pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At eight o'clock, when John passed across the asphalt -pavement between the officers' quarters and the kitchen, -he was able to observe Sims, who was fond of his -bake-house, sitting in the open doorway of the bakehouse -itself, innocently reading the morning's paper. He -appeared not to be aware of John's departure, and -continued to read.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton, in the meantime, made his way towards the -sentinel-guarded wire entanglements. A tall, double -ladder, spanning the entanglement, here permitted exit -on to the cliff edge behind the fort. The ladder was a -temporary affair, drawn in always at night, thus making -the fort, with the aid of the sentries, impregnable from -the rear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sun was low in the west when John reached the -expanse of sand whereon "Crumbs" had occupied -himself. Once upon the shore, it was the simplest matter -in the world to trace "Crumbs's" path. He walked -briskly, following the man's footsteps, full of a keen -desire to know what "Crumbs" had been doing. No -ordinary purpose, thought John, had been at the back -of "Crumbs's" operations. Nevertheless, an ordinary -observer watching, as John had watched, would have -entertained no suspicion at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps," mused John, as he followed "Crumbs's" -irregular footprints, "I am a fool for my pains! He -may be the mere aimless nonentity he seems to be." He -remembered that "Crumbs" was known to be a -collector of shells, that he spent a good deal of time -searching for specimens upon the foreshore. A baker -and a conchologist are incongruous mixtures at any time. -Especially were they incongruous on that coast where -shells are almost non-existent. Keenly interested he -drew nearer to the spot whereon "Crumbs" had occupied -himself, but the smooth sand was undisturbed save for -the man's heavy-footed indentations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's spirits instantly fell. There was nothing upon -that spot which in the slightest degree could arouse his -suspicions. The sand was smooth and firm, with round, -sea-eroded pebbles plentifully scattered here and -there—the usual pebbles that lay in thousands upon the -beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After all, I was a fool!" thought John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He could see quite clearly the impress of "Crumbs's" -body as it had lain upon the ground. And as he stood -looking upon this impression he observed that "Crumbs" -had made what might be called a crude pattern with -pebbles—a row of parallel lines. John was able to -make out, in all, three separate lines of stones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long minute he remained looking down upon -these innocent-seeming pebbles laid out with childish -regularity. Then gradually his first suspicions returned. -His attention ran along the orderly row of little -stones—a third and a fourth time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And suddenly a vivid light blazed in his eyes. He -uttered an exclamation under his breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Great Scott! so that's it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His whole mind focused upon the pebbles; he began -to speak in measured tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dot-dash-dot-dash; dash-dash-dash."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the words left his lips on the solitude of the sands, -he was conscious of a quick thrill of excitement. The -stones laid thus innocently held a sinister meaning spelt -out in the Morse code. Two pebbles lay together, then -further to the right an isolated pebble, then again two -pebbles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dash-dot-dash," John interpreted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The message was quite a long one. With a glance at -the cliff edge—he knew that "Crumbs" was safely in -his quarters—John took out his pocket-book and made -a faithful copy of "Crumbs's" laborious message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he had copied it all down he made his way back -to the fort, pondering upon the significance of his -discovery. For whom was the message intended? Both -Hobin and Commander Grieves had told him that the -possibility of any enemy signalling from the fort, or to -the fort from outside, had been completely eliminated, -and had said, "We should instantly see any light that -might be exhibited by an enemy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet," thought John, "our ingenious friend, -'Crumbs,' seems to have thought out a plan which -evades every one of their precautions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ingenuity and simplicity of "Crumbs's" plan -struck him with astonishment. It was clear to John -that "Crumbs" regularly placed his innocent-looking -messages on the sands, to be subsequently taken up by a -confederate who came ashore from a submarine in the -darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cunning isn't the word for him," thought John, as he -hurried towards the fort.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xiv"><span class="large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A few minutes later in his own room and by candle-light -he set to work to find a meaning for the arrangement -of little pebbles "Crumbs" had placed upon the -foreshore. A dozen times he went over the dot-dash -lines in his pocket-book, and each time the hidden -meaning intensified in clarity. Finally, he began to write -with a sudden vivid and passionate interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first word defined was "Oberst." Then he -continued slowly and carefully: "</span><em class="italics">Mistrauish und aufgeregt. -Neue Minen karte in Händen des Capitans. Nicht -möglich es sofort zu finden. Von R. ist nichts zu hören. -Ganze geschichte schwierig. Bitte um antwort.—S</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So, friend 'Crumbs' is a German after all, and an -educated German at that," he exclaimed under his breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he took his pencil and began to translate the -message. The result in English was as follows:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Colonel suspicious and nervous. New mine chart in -hands of naval commander; impossible to find it at once. -No news of R. Matters difficult. Answer this.—S.</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked up with a grave face. Almost for the first -time he felt a doubt. In that moment he almost doubted -even Dacent Smith's power to cope with such subtlety, -such ingenious co-ordination as this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crumbs" was a spy actually in the heart of a vital -fort, a spy who was possibly one of a score, or a hundred, -busy upon the South Coast at that moment. John felt -oppressed by a consciousness of dark agencies planning -evil. Here was no romance. Here was real, hard, solid -fact; War. Sims was an item in this warfare, one of -a chain, of which Manwitz, Cherriton, Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, and the great unknown himself were -all separate links.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some minutes John paced the narrow confines of his -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Who was R. from whom no news had arrived? A -sensation that calamity and failure was possible bore in -upon him. He had made a discovery truly, but would -that discovery mean the frustration of the mysterious -attack that was impending? He did not know, he hardly -dared to hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If Heatherpoint Fort were out of action," Colonel -Hobin had said, "and if Scoles Head were similarly out -of action, there might be the devil to pay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John realised as he paced his little room with -"Crumbs's" message in his hand, that an attack by sea -was planned. Otherwise why the mention of the new -mine chart? And if an attack by sea was intended on -the great naval port of ... Scoles and Heatherpoint -must be first put out of action. After that, the boom -which ran across from Ponsonby Lighthouse to ... must -be overcome.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked again at the message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This must be got to Dacent Smith at once," thought -he; "and in the meantime 'Crumbs' must be watched."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He placed the message carefully in his pocket-book. -Then, a new thought having struck him, he hurried out -and sought Sergeant Ewins. The sergeant occupied one -compartment of an old railway coach, which had been -turned into huts for the men. Ewins was lying on his -bunk when John entered, reading a Sunday paper by the -light of a fort candle as thick as a man's wrist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to have a word with you, Ewins," said John, -sitting on the edge of the chief gunner's bunk, which had -formerly been a railway seat. "Can you tell me," he -went on, "if it is possible for anyone to make a landing -on the south shore, there? I mean in the bay below -the look-out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's possible, of course," Ewins answered, "but risky."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't think it possible," inquired John, "for a -submarine to lie out there in the bay and send a small -canvas boat ashore?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've forgotten our minefield—a submarine could -not pass it, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I haven't forgotten that," answered John; -"but suppose the Germans know where our mines are?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then they'd know more than we do, sir," answered -Ewins. "Nobody in the fort knows that, except the -Commander, and perhaps the Colonel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The reason I am asking you," went on John, "is that -I have discovered something and want to give you an -opportunity of coming down on the shore with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-night, sir?" inquired Ewins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose, Ewins, it seems fantastical and impossible -to you, but I have a theory that the Germans intend to -bring a boat ashore there. In my opinion, they have -been there before to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins's eyes opened wide.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think that is so, sir?" he asked in a voice of -deep amazement. Then his eyes brightened. "I'd -like to come with you, sir, if you think there's any -likelihood of that sort of thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't only think it, I know it," said John. "It -may not be to-night, because of the full moon, nor -to-morrow night. But some time or other, and maybe -soon, I am prepared to bet my hat that a German will -land from the sea. He will land, Ewins, in the bay below -us, within a quarter of a mile of where we are now sitting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manner in which Ewins took this information filled -John with satisfaction. The old soldier was spoiling for -a fight. For four years he had had nothing better to -shoot at than a target, and he was longing for a chance of -real action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless John's fear was correct, for that night -and the next night the moon shone brilliantly, and -nothing happened on the shore. "Crumbs's" message -lay unread in the bright moonlight. The third night, -however, the sky was overcast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But by a sudden, swift turn of circumstances John was -not there to see what happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton's record on "Crumbs's" secret signal had been -taken with the utmost seriousness by Dacent Smith, and -on the afternoon of the third day, when John was alone -at tea in the mess-room, an orderly thumped along the -passage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A gentleman to see you, sir," said the orderly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's his name?" John asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Sinclair, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rose, and a minute later Captain X. stepped into -the little room. Captain X. was in uniform, and John -noticed that he wore the Mons ribbon and the D.S.O.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surprised to see me, eh?" exclaimed the young man, -gripping John's hand heartily; then dropping his voice, -"I'm here from the Chief. Is it quite private here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite," John answered, "but I would rather take you -into my room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went along the passage to John's bedroom. -John seated himself on the bed, and Captain X. or Sinclair -occupied the only chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Chief's thoroughly stirred up," said Sinclair, -plunging into his subject without preliminary. "He -has passed on your information to me. I must say you -seem to have all the luck, Treves. A signal on the sands, -eh? That beats everything for cunning. I have heard -of clothes being hung out in the Morse code, and Morse -smoke signals from a chimney—by the way, do you think -your chap Sims signals with smoke from his bakehouse?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have spent hours looking at his chimney," he said. -"It was the first thing I thought of when I began to -suspect him, and it was only an accident which made me -get on to his real game after all. I knew any kind of -flash signal was out of the question here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Neatest thing they've done yet, eh, Treves? I must -say this sort of thing makes the fight full of zipp and go," -he said. Then he looked at John with a commiserating -eye: "I am going to dash your spirits, old chap."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, get on with it," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going to pick up the plums you have shaken off -the tree."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How's that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For answer Sinclair drew an envelope from his pocket. -John recognised the colour and shape of the envelope in -a minute. He read the short, typed letter with gathered -brows, then struck a match and destroyed it carefully. -The letter contained an order from Dacent Smith that -John should surrender his position at Heatherpoint to -Captain X., and was to resume work immediately against -Cherriton, Dr. Voules, and Mrs. Beecher Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's rough luck, old chap," said Captain X., "but I -expect that before this big movement is finished you will -have as much chance of adventure as I shall."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope so," said John. "But I was looking forward -to the result of 'Crumbs's' signal. Last night the moon -shone out of pure cussedness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain X. sprang up to the window and looked out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's clouding up to-night, old chap," he exclaimed -joyously, "and you'll be away for the fun. Hallo!" he -said. His eyes were lowered and were fixed upon a man -in shirt-sleeves in the doorway opposite. "Is that -'Crumbs'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said John, "but don't let him see you looking -at him. I am not so sure that he hasn't spotted something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He'll spot something in a day or two," said Captain -X., coming back from the window, "and in the meantime -the Chief's orders are to leave him a long rope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's orders from his Chief were that he should -report to Colonel Hobin and leave Heatherpoint -immediately. He began to change his clothes, and talked -to his companion at the same time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can rub acquaintance with 'Crumbs' while I -get out of the fort," he said. "He mustn't see me in -mufti. I shall spend a night in Newport, and call on -Dr. Voules to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who do you think Voules is?" asked the Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall know more about that to-morrow," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he was ready to go he shook hands cordially with -his companion. He always felt older than Captain X., -though their ages were the same. Captain X.'s audacity -and joy in life amused John. His colleague always put -so much zest into everything he did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should advise you," he said, gripping the Captain's -hand, "to use Ewins if you want any help on the beach -to-night. He is an old soldier, and I should think, if an -awkward moment arrived, you could rely on him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," said Sinclair. "This is a new game for me. -I have never had the chance of angling for a German -submarine commander before, but I expect there'll be -one ashore here to-night, eh, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Somebody comes ashore," responded John, "and -reads those signals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out and sat in the mess-room for a few minutes, -leaving Sinclair time to occupy "Crumbs'" attention -while he slipped away from the fort.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xv"><span class="large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The situation at Heatherpoint was exactly to the -liking of Captain Sinclair. He realised, from what -John had told him, that "Crumbs" was no mean -antagonist, and he was feverish to make the spy's -acquaintance. But the manner in which he strolled -into "Crumbs's" bakehouse before John's departure -was the most casual in the world. One of Sinclair's -chief gifts was an innocent and infectious smile, and under -the most trying of circumstances he was always cheerful. -With this smiling cheeriness of manner Sinclair possessed, -as is often the case, a fair share of astuteness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It smells good in here," he said, putting his head into -"Crumbs's" warm atmosphere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crumbs," who was kneading dough at his board, -turned about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't mind me," said Sinclair cheerfully. He -stepped into the bakehouse and held a good-humoured -conversation with "Crumbs." He spent a quarter of an -hour in cheery garrulity, and when he went away, -"Crumbs," from the darkness of his lair, watched him -stride across the asphalt yard towards the officers' -quarters. The man's eyes narrowed as he recalled that -Sinclair had been peering at him out of John's quarters a -little while earlier. When his work was finished that -night "Crumbs" cleaned himself and had a chat with -Ewins, who was smoking a pipe on the step of the old -railway carriage that formed both men's quarters in the -upper fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's this new captain we got?" Private Sims asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't know," answered Ewins. "He's done his bit, -seemingly." He was referring to Sinclair's Mons ribbon -and the D.S.O.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We seem to be getting a lot of changes lately," -pursued "Crumbs." He had removed the flour from his -eyelashes and moustache, and his lean, sallow, discontented -face and glassy, strange-looking eyes struck Ewins -as particularly unpleasant. Sims was generous in -handing cake and so forth whenever chance occurred, -but he was not liked in the fort. The other men could not -get the hang of him, and when he rose presently and -shambled away into the fort buildings, Ewins, who was -expecting every minute to be called by Sinclair, was not -sorry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an hour or two that evening "Crumbs" pottered -about. He gossiped in the kitchen, had a talk with the -sergeant controlling the leave-book, found his way into -the mess-room, and complained to Parkson, who was -adjutant, on the quality of the flour being supplied from -outside. After that the Colonel met him in the corridor, -where he had no right to be, near Sinclair's bedroom. -And, as the Colonel was the one man in the fort, outside -Sinclair, who knew the truth about him, he questioned -"Crumbs" somewhat sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you doing here, Sims?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have just been in, sir, to complain about the flour -to the adjutant. I wasn't thinking," he went on, with a -perfect semblance of an absent-minded air, "I wasn't -thinking, and I came here instead of going along to the -right——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You ought to know the run of the fort by this time," -said the Colonel, and passed on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an hour later that Sims, who had made a -shattering discovery, sat in his cubicle of the railway -compartment, with the door locked, and penned a rapid letter. -He wrote fluently, in the manner of a man whose education -has been thorough and efficient. His lips twitched -slightly as his pen sped over the paper. There was a -tense expression upon his sallow face, and he pulled -nervously at his long, drooping moustache.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the head of the letter he put no address.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Dear Doctor,</em><span>" he wrote, "</span><em class="italics">our plans are threatened. -The new officer here, Lieutenant Treves, has been watching -me closely for the past week. He has cross-examined -Ewins about the guns, and evidently knows something. -To-day a second officer has arrived, a Captain Sinclair. -I doubt him also. They both suspect me. But my -important news is that to-night I secured my first -opportunity of going through Treves's belongings. I was able -to open his dispatch-box, and among other papers of -no importance, I discovered a letter from Cherriton, with -whom he has apparently some association. The letter -was signed by Cherriton, which clearly showed me that -Treves is playing both for and against us. I have -suspected him for days. I implore you, doctor, to probe -this matter. If you hear no more from me you will -know that things have gone wrong. I beg of you to act -drastically and immediately.</em><span>—S."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When "Crumbs" had finished this letter he read it -carefully through and avoided blotting it, so that there -could be no trace of its existence. When the letter had -dried he placed it in an envelope and addressed it to -"Dr. Voules, Rollo Meads, Brooke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the custom at Heatherpoint for the fort letters to -be sent to Freshwater post office every night at seven -precisely in a locked bag. "Crumbs," with his letter in his -pocket, hovered about the orderly-room until the bugle -began to blow seven. He then hurriedly followed the -orderly into the mess-room, where the adjutant nightly -locked the bag with his key. Lieutenant Parkson was in -the act of locking the bag when "Crumbs" shambled into -the little room with an apology. He handed his letter to -Parkson, who dropped it in and locked the bag.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xvi"><span class="large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John decided to walk into Freshwater, and then take -the train to Newport. As he made his way along the -road from Heatherpoint, carrying a small handbag, a red -bicycle came towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you going to the fort?" he asked the telegraph boy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anything for Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lieutenant Treves, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute later John had torn open an envelope -containing a telegram, which ran:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Come to me at the Gordon Hotel, Newport. Shall be -there this evening</em><span>. ELAINE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Elaine's wire came to him as an utter surprise, a -surprise that was tinctured with pleasure. He had never -forgotten her since their first, and only meeting. He -had indeed thought of her a hundred times, recalling -her as she stood in the little room in Camden Town. -Without doubt she was the most beautiful woman he had -ever seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the past weeks every moment of his time had -been occupied, and there had been no possibility of -carrying out his promise to visit her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he walked he drew out her telegram and read it -carefully through, possibly for the sixth time. The -wording brought to him a measure of comfort; he felt, -somehow, that she was not in so distressed a state of -mind as when he had received her former wire to Bernard -Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall see her within an hour," thought John, as he -stepped into a train at Freshwater. But as the train -drew nearer to Newport his high spirits evaporated; he -began to argue that Elaine Treves was outside his sphere -of work. Dacent Smith had impressed upon him the -intense seriousness of the German menace on the South -Coast; no private considerations, John told himself, -held precedence of the duty that lay before him. Elaine -Treves was a victim of the innocent deception he had -been obliged to practise. But it was not his fault that -she was an extremely beautiful woman, and that she -believed him to be her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the Gordon Hotel, a small quiet, specklessly clean -building, John entered the hall, and found Elaine herself -descending the stairs. For a moment the girl did not -notice him, and John was free to observe the daintiness -of her costume, the slender dignity of her figure, and the -quite astonishing beauty of her grey, long-lashed eyes. -The note of pathos that had been apparent when he first -met her was now not so marked. She struck him as -serious, but not depressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine had descended the stairs to the vestibule before -her eyes met his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Bernard," she exclaimed, and instantly took his -hand in her gloved fingers. "But you can't have come -in answer to my wire?" she went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said John; "I came on other business."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not angry with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; why should I be angry?" asked John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I wired to you," said Elaine. "Let us go -upstairs, Bernard. The sitting-room's empty; we can -talk there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She led him up to a little, parlour-like apartment, with -a gay carpet, and a circular table in the middle of the -room. Here she closed the door and stood with her back -to it, looking up into John's face. Her eyes searched his -closely. Her splendid beauty, the wistful expression of -her face, a certain shy girlishness, all appealed to John's -feelings. He found it difficult to sustain the searching -gaze lifted to his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Elaine drew in a deep breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she whispered, "you are different."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he answered, quietly, "I suppose I am a little -different."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ever since the last time I saw you I have felt it," -went on Elaine. "I have thought much of our last -meeting," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So have I," John answered lamely, not knowing -exactly how to handle the situation. They were seated -now on opposite sides of the hearth, and Elaine was -taking the hatpins out of her hat with pretty feminine -gestures that held John's attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was only going a lonely walk," she explained, -"when I met you, but I won't go now; we'll have tea -here together. You will notice," she went on, placing her -hat on her knee and piercing it with her long hatpins, -"that I have not scolded you for failing to write to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry," said John, "but I have been tremendously -occupied."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guessed," said Elaine, "that you were at home -with your father. I am so glad of that, Bernard; I -used to feel," she went on, hesitatingly, "that you were -not treating him well, and that his indignation against -you was—was—" she hesitated a moment—"well—justified."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had been observing her closely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you wire for me, Elaine?" he said, using -her name for the first time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine looked at him, and then away. The colour -rose to her cheeks, a delicate colour that enhanced her -beauty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," she said. "I got a little frightened, -I think. You see, your friend, Captain Cherriton, began -to call on me rather regularly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John pricked up his ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he cross-examine you about me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He scarcely mentioned you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I see," said John, suddenly enlightened; "he -came to force his unpleasant attentions upon you. Is -that it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine was silent a moment. She was thinking how -well John carried himself. The husband she had known, -neurotic and nerveless and irritable, now appeared before -her clear-eyed, calm and more manly than she had ever -believed him to be. She felt herself drawn to him, as -she had felt herself attracted on that last meeting in -London. Her nature was quick and ready to forgive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had to forbid him the house in the end, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John sat suddenly erect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was he impudent to you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sudden lowering of his brows and tension of his -figure caught Elaine's interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you do mind, Bernard?" she asked quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I mind, when you are insulted," he returned. -"Or, rather, I ought to mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For, like a blow, the thought suddenly struck him -that he himself was treating her with gross injustice. -It was one thing to deceive, in a good cause, Colonel -Treves; it was another thing to deceive this young -and beautiful girl, who was another man's wife. And -he, John Manton, was standing in that other man's shoes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's situation at that moment was as delicate as -any situation in which he had yet found himself. It -was an easy matter to confront Manwitz and Cherriton, -and even Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, in the character of -Bernard Treves. It was not so easy to present himself -in that character before Bernard Treves's wife. The -thought that had occurred to him at their first meeting -came again into his mind; at any moment he might -make a false step. An unlucky turn of phrase, a lack -of knowledge of some incident in their mutual past, -might instantly betray him. For Elaine Treves, despite -her striking beauty and her intense femininity, was -quite keenly alive and intelligent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They took tea in the hotel, and after the meal John -suggested a walk in the town. Elaine readily assented, -and together they explored the quaint side streets of -Newport. If matters had been different, if John had -accompanied her in his own character, and had not had -to act a part that was extraordinarily difficult, he would -have been in the highest of spirits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Already he had remarked upon Elaine's air of -distinction. She knew how to dress, how to put on her -hat, how to make herself in all respects a delightful -picture of girlish attraction. John knew nothing of -feminine economics, or he would have been aware that -her fashionably smart costume and that pretty hat she -wore had cost almost nothing at all, and had been mostly -the work of her own hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the walk they stopped and looked into a quaint -curiosity shop. John admired a set of old Chippendale -chairs and a pair of inlaid duelling pistols. He and -Elaine were standing close together as he spoke, and -he felt her slender, gloved hand laid delicately on his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" asked John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was looking up into his face, a pleased expression -in her fine grey eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your taste seems to have changed utterly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know," said John. "I—I—perhaps my -taste has matured——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You used to hate all old things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was looking down into her face, that appeared -to him now as the most beautiful in the world. He -made no answer to her remark, and Elaine went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look at things so differently, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In what way?" John asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," answered she. "I have a sort of -queer feeling, Bernard, that you are yourself, and yet -there is something that has occurred to make you -different."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt that the discussion was drifting in an awkward -direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know what I think?" he remarked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think?" asked Elaine, as they walked -together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I ought to do something to make up for all -the bad times—er—I have given you in the past."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was silent, walking along gazing before her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were bad times, some of them, Bernard," she -returned, quietly. She moved a little nearer to him as -they walked. "But I have always felt," she went on, -"that it was not really you. I feel that—that the -unfortunate habit you had contracted, the—the——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand," John intervened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe now," went on Elaine, "it was not really -you. You were not responsible, and I always hoped -that some time, when you had conquered yourself, you -would become different."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She paused a moment, and John felt her arm slip -through his. It was strange, but his pulse-beat quickened -at this quiet manifestation of her growing feeling towards -him. He felt that, somehow or other, she was being -drawn towards him, that she was, as it were, shielding -herself under his protection. And yet, all the time, the -situation was an impossible one. He had no right to -permit advances of this sort; the deception he was -practising upon her was utterly and completely cruel. -What would have happened, he asked himself, if he -had suddenly faced her and had said: "I am not your -husband, I am not Bernard Treves—but John Manton? -The man you believe me to be—your husband—is a -drug-sodden and hysterical degenerate, a soldier who -has been guilty of treachery to his country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His thoughts switched back to the necessity of turning -the conversation. He could feel the warmth of her arm -resting upon his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us talk of cheerful things," he said. "For -instance, that is a very pretty hat you have on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you like it? I made it myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I like it," responded John, appearing to look -at it with the critical eye of a husband. "Of course," -he said, "it is quite easy for a hat to look well where you -are concerned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine was frankly pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you flattering me, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That wasn't flattery. If I set out to flatter you, I -should talk in quite a different way to that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know," she went on quickly, "when I met -you in the hotel my heart was beating terribly. I was -afraid you might be angry!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could I be angry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," she said; "but sometimes, Bernard, -you used to be so dreadfully angry at the things I did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somehow the recollection of these things appeared to -sweep over her, for she drew her hand away from John's -arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought we were going to talk of cheerful things," -John reminded her. He began to draw her attention -to the quaintness of the streets, and managed, until their -return to the hotel, to keep her mind fully occupied with -trivialities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they reached the little sitting-room at the hotel, -he rang the bell and ordered dinner to be prepared for -two at seven o'clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May we have it here in the sitting-room?" he asked -the waiter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, sir," answered the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine, whose air of constraint had quite vanished again, -went to her room, took off her hat, and put on an -afternoon blouse. When she returned to the sitting-room -John noticed her little attempt to dress herself for the -evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you'd like to see me in something smarter -for dinner," she said. "Do you like it, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It could not be better," said John. Inwardly he -was saying: "I like everything about you; I like your -fine, dark hair; I like your frank, beautiful eyes, and -your honesty and your simplicity, and the fact that you -are a girl and yet a woman. What I do dislike, however, -is the fact that you have a waster of a husband, and that -I have no right to be here this minute standing in that -waster's shoes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They sat down together at the round table in the -middle of the hotel' parlour. The waiter, a gloomy -individual, in tired-looking dress clothes and in a white -shirt that should have been washed a week earlier, lit -four pink-shaded candles, served the soup, and went away. -Soup was followed by fish and an excellent entrée. John, -looking over the top of the pink-shaded candles, saw a -brightness in Elaine's eyes. He had been talking gaily -keeping the conversation away from anything personal, -and telling her anecdotes that made her laugh. And all -the time, although he was not aware of the fact, he was -drawing her towards him, fanning the flame of love that -the real Bernard Treves had never kindled. She was -experiencing new feelings towards this man whom she -believed to be her husband. The shifty look in his eyes -that she had disliked in the past had vanished. The -Bernard Treves who sat before her looked frankly and -keenly into her face. He was not in the least intimate; -he was, indeed, somewhat aloof, but this very quality -of aloofness puzzled and attracted her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time dinner was cleared away and the cloth -removed, Elaine was completely at her ease. Her old -fear of offending her husband had totally vanished. She -could not understand her own feelings and began to -take herself to task for having been hard with him in the -past. When Bernard Treves had persisted in his habit -of heavy drinking and drug-taking, she had been obliged -to make a stand. She had done everything she could -to win him to better ways. But when to these habits -he had added violence and other cruelties towards -herself, she had informed him that until he made some -effort to control himself she could not live with him as -his wife. It was characteristic of her, as it is sometimes -characteristic of gentle people, that firmness lay beneath -an unaggressive exterior. She had kept her word. -But to-night, for the first time, she began to doubt the -justice of what she had done. She told herself that she -had been hard on Bernard Treves, that she ought to have -clung to him, however low he sank.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xvii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John, who had deposited himself on a chair at the -hearth, lit a cigarette, and was consuming it with a good -deal of satisfaction. He had never in his life partaken -of an evening meal that had given him so much -satisfaction; even the funereal and shabby waiter seemed -to him a creature of delight, and the little room in the -hotel—he would always remember it as an apartment -brightened by the eyes of Elaine Treves. It was not -usual for John Manton to be led away, but to-night, for -some minutes, he let his senses toy with impossibilities. -He permitted himself to forget the existence of Bernard -Treves. And when the waiter left the room, and Elaine -rose and came towards him, he made no effort to avoid -her approach, as he had done once or twice earlier in the -evening. She stood beside his chair and laid her hand on -his shoulder. John looked up and saw that her face had -grown serious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to make a confession to you, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let it be a cheerful confession," smiled John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was mistaken, after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's easy to make mistakes," returned John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought not to have sent you away from me," said Elaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John thought a moment, then observed quietly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I deserved to be sent away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember, Bernard, when you came to -Camden Town after you had seen your father?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, naturally, did not recollect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not recall it very clearly," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you—you——" She broke off, and again, as -she had done in the street, she moved a little away from -him. A wave of aversion towards him appeared to -sweep over her. "When," she went on, "I told you that -we could not be together again until—until——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Until I could behave myself," John put in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine nodded slightly in assent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought that I was doing right, and when you said -you'd never forgive me I still held out. I wonder, -Bernard, if you will forgive me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I'll forgive you," returned Manton, -magnanimously. He would have forgiven her anything. -He could not believe her capable of anything which -would need forgiveness. She came to him again and -stood before him, looking down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, out of politeness, that she should not be standing -when he was seated, stood up, and suddenly he felt Elaine's -hand in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she whispered, "you care for me still——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I care for you more than ever I did," said John. He -tried valiantly to slip his hand from hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You love me, I mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine's face was upturned; there was a wistful -expression in her fine, grey eyes, and there was something -more than wistfulness. John could see it shining there. -Inwardly he was conscientiously cursing the Fates that -had placed him in this impossible position—and yet -outwardly he was glad. He was thrilled and happy -that this situation had arisen. Then his thoughts took -a turn, and his spirits sank. The love he saw shining -in her eyes was not for him, but for Bernard Treves. -He put away her hand and moved back in his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do love me, Bernard?" she whispered again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," John answered. He was convinced that there -was no other thing for him to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you'll forgive me for sending you away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine went on again: "It was wrong not to let you -stay with me. I had no right to do it; after all, a wife -has no right to act as I did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why think of it and worry about it now?" said -John, attempting to strike an ordinary tone of voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I want to make everything straight between us, -Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John led her to a chair, and she seated herself. He -tried to turn the conversation, but this time he failed. -Elaine felt a growing desire to wipe away all -misunderstandings between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have still my confession to make, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" inquired John cheerily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a silence for a moment—a silence that John -felt to be momentous, that rendered him uncomfortable. -Then Elaine's words came to him, uttered in a low tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never loved you till to-night, Bernard!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was conscious of a sudden and exultant thrill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all your confession?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine nodded. Her hand was in his. John lifted it -to his lips. Then recollection came to him; he drew -himself erect, standing away from her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's getting late, Elaine," he said. "I ought to be -going." There was something vibrant and new in his -voice that caused her heart to beat violently. "You -see," John went on, somewhat clumsily, "I have -important work to do to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Elaine had not loosed her grip of his hand. She -suddenly hid her face on his shoulder; he could feel her -arms about him. For a minute, what was to John an -awkward silence, subsisted between them, then Elaine -spoke again:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should you go, Bernard?" she whispered. "I -was cruel to you, but I did not wish to be cruel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are never cruel," protested John. "Don't think -of it any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His situation in that moment was the hardest that -Fate could have possibly imposed upon him. Here was -the finest woman he had ever met—young, beautiful -and ardent, with her arms about his neck, whispering -love to him. She was speaking to him as a wife to a -husband whom she loves, and all the time he was not -that husband. And, to complicate matters, he felt now -that the love she was prepared to offer was not offered -to the other—to Bernard Treves—but to himself alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she murmured, "at the back of my heart, -through all those black days, I whispered always that -some time I should be happy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure you'll be happy," said John. "It will not -be my fault if you are not." He drew in a deep breath. -"But to-night—I must go; I—I am very busy; I have -many things to do to-night. Confidential work." He -lifted her hand, bent and kissed her slender white fingers. -"Some day I'll explain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute later he was gone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The gloomy-looking waiter, who had served dinner the -night before, informed John that the only way to arrive at -Brooke was by hired pony-trap or by bicycle. Choosing the -latter method, John, early in the morning, hired a bicycle, -visited the hotel, and said good-bye to Elaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll come back to me this evening, Bernard?" -whispered she as she kissed him good-bye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This evening," said John. "I had no right to let -her kiss me," he continued inwardly, "but, after all, it's -part of the deception, part of the character I am obliged -to play." Nevertheless, he felt uneasy as he rode the -winding and hilly path to Brooke. The night before he -had played his part valiantly and well, but he felt that in -regard to Elaine tremendous difficulties were ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was eleven o'clock when John reached the road -which led to the empty, forlorn line of shore at Brooke. -He could see the sea ahead of him, a grand expanse of -blue ocean. He passed quaint Brooke church on his left -hand, and suddenly slowed up near a large solid-looking -dwelling, overgrown with creepers. Here was Rollo -Meads, with a strip of garden in front. As John neared -the dwelling he noticed a gardener at work. Something -in the quiet and homely exterior of the house made him -for a moment think he had made a mistake, but as his -hand fell upon the gate the gardener lifted his face, and -John recognised the pallid countenance and close-set -eyes of Conrad, the manservant who had first admitted -him to Manwitz's house in St. George's Square.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Conrad informed him that Dr. Voules was in and was -awaiting him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," thought John, as he followed Conrad to the -front door, "matters may begin to move again." Dacent -Smith had for some time been groping towards the identity -of Dr. Voules, and John realised that in being permitted -to undertake the work he was now upon he was being -trusted and favoured by his Chief. He resolved, in his -interview with the doctor, to exercise the most extreme -caution, and to play the part of Bernard Treves with the -closest simulation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence as John stepped into the hall of -Rollo Meads. The servant preceded him along the -passage, knocked on a door, then entered, and vanished, -leaving John alone. Conrad emerged a minute later, -and summoned John towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you please go in, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later John found himself in a good-sized -morning-room, with two windows overlooking a lawn -and a garden. The room was heavily furnished with -a long oak table in the middle, and half a dozen massive -dining-room chairs surrounding it. At the head of the -table Doctor "Voules" was seated. He wore a markedly -English-looking tweed suit, but his thick neck, his -circular head, and heavy jaws showed him to be not -quite the amiable retired doctor he pretended to be. -Seated on Voules's right hand were two men, deeply -sun-tanned. One of the men wore a blond beard, and -looked frankly and honestly at John. The other was a -fair-haired man, with a supercilious-looking expression. -John put both down at once as naval officers. Standing -at the fire-place, in uniform, was Captain Cherriton. -The air of the room was heavily impregnated with the -smell of cigar smoke. Cherriton was smoking a -cigarette, but Doctor Voules held in his powerful mouth a -long, black cigar. He flashed a keen scrutiny upon -John as the young man stepped into the room and closed -the door behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are Mr. Treves, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John assured him that he was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will take a seat," said Voules, pointing to a -vacant chair upon his left hand. "These are two -friends of mine," he said, indicating the blond-bearded -man and the supercilious younger man, "Mr. Sharpe and -Mr. Rogers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am pleased to meet you," said John, making a -swift mental summary of each man's appearance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to make your acquaintance," responded -the blond-bearded man, and his accent was so thoroughly -German that it would have betrayed him anywhere. -The other man appeared to speak no English at all, for -he merely nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Cherriton," commanded Voules, and Cherriton, -who was lounging at the hearth, came and seated -himself at John's side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am in the thick of it," thought John. He wondered -what was to occur, what attitude Voules would take -towards himself, whether Voules would regard him as -of consequence, and of possible use, or would he fail -to trust him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are no longer in the army?" Voules inquired, -looking into John's face with cold grey eyes. It was his -custom to examine personally such men as were brought -to him; he had infinite belief in his own powers of -judgment, and in many ways he possessed a shrewd -and penetrating mind. His infinite confidence in -himself, however, sometimes led him into mistakes. He -believed, as he looked at John, that he was examining -a weakling, and a drug-taker. Cherriton had supplied -all information as to Bernard Treves's unstable character -and habits, and though Voules was a little surprised to -find the young man healthy and vigorous looking, he -was deceived by the manner in which John avoided his -eyes; he was still more deceived when John, cleverly -resting his elbow on the table, permitted his sleeve to -fall back so that Voules could see pinpricks on his wrist, -the sort of wound that is left by a hypodermic syringe -used for administering morphia and cocaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules's sharp eyes instantly fell upon this tangible -evidence of the drug habit. He was quite satisfied with -the evidence of his own eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are no longer in the army?" he repeated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, as a matter of fact," John said, after a moment's -hesitation, "my father has used his influence, and I am -to be restored to my commission."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules's eyes widened a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed," he remarked. He appeared to consider -this change in John's circumstances for a moment, then -he put out a hand and laid his heavy fingers on John's -sleeve. "You have told this news, eh——" he paused -a moment; "you have told this news to Alice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a second John hesitated; he did not realise who -Alice was; then he remembered her as Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered John, "I have not told her yet, but -I intend to write and tell her to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," said Voules, "you think she will be pleased?" The -intensity of his gaze increased. John saw quite plainly -a doubt in his eyes. "You think she will be pleased?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure of it," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I can be of more use, doctor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have a very high opinion of the lady in question," -said Voules; "we have every reason to trust her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you will have every reason to trust me," John -said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules looked at him silently for a minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope so," he announced. "We shall make it worth -your while to serve us." He paused for a moment, and -glanced at Cherriton. "Cherriton has already told you," -he said, "that when the Day arrives, when the success -that is bound to come, has been given to us, we shall -not forget our friends in England." He suddenly turned -away from John, and looked at the blond-bearded man -on his right. His voice seemed to deepen in tone, and -he began suddenly and rapidly to speak in German. -"What is your opinion of our young English friend -here?" he rapped to the blond-bearded man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot judge of him, Excellence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules went on still in German:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Manwitz and Rathenau have each testified to his -usefulness; he is also in the hands of a lady who can -well supervise his doings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The blond man fingered his blond beard, sliding it -through his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excellence, let me say, may I not suggest a certain -reserve in our conversation, in the circumstances."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules laughed for the first time. John noticed that -his teeth were strong and well kept, and that his laugh -was not at all pleasant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our Englander," he said, "understands not one -word of German. We may speak freely, Muller. Is it -not so, Rathenau?" He turned quickly to Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Excellence," answered Cherriton, with his -contemptuous curl of the lip. "Not one English officer -in a thousand knows half a dozen words of German; -our friend is no exception."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is well controlled by the particular lady -mentioned?" inquired Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite, Excellence; even if she cared for him in the -way he believes she does, she would still watch him like -a cat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True," said Voules; then again turned to John and -spoke in English. "My apologies to you, Mr. Treves," -he said, "for speaking in German, but my friends here -speak no English."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind in the least," answered John. He did -not in the least, and as he had understood every word -it made no difference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In regard to your reinstatement in the army," went -on Voules, "I offer you my felicitations. You will be -able to help us even more than in the past, and I may -hardly say that the reward will be in proportion to the -work done. If you are stationed in London we can -find work for you in London. If, on the other hand, you -are returned to your regiment, then you can also help -us. The treatment you have received at the hands of -the army, Cherriton tells me, is abominable. You are -quite honourably acquitted of allegiance to your -nationality. I tell you this, that you may have no inner -qualms; in serving us you serve the cause of Kultur. -Is that not so, Cherriton?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Herr Excellence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kultur," thought John; "Kultur, that stabs in the -dark, that murders children and women; that calls -might right. Kultur that takes a man sodden with drugs -and turns him into a traitor to his country; then, having -made him commit crimes against his fellow-countrymen, -has the audacity to tell him that he is acting the part -of a man of honour! Some day," thought John, a -sudden blaze of fury burning through him, "you, Voules, -will be taught a very different culture from that." Aloud -John said nothing, but merely sat nervously in his chair, -fidgeting with his collar, and clasping and unclasping -his hands upon the table—an excellent imitation of the -real Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there anything you would wish to say?" inquired -Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked guardedly at the two men who sat opposite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please go to the window," commanded Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men rose obediently and crossed the room. -John dropped his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understood," he said to Voules, "that I was to -receive"—he stopped, looked into Voules's face, then -turned his eyes away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rathenau," Voules commanded, "ring the bell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton rang the bell, and a moment later Conrad -entered the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The packet, Conrad, for Mr. Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Conrad went out and returned a moment later, carrying -a small white packet. He handed it to Voules, and -Voules passed it to John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you—thank you!" exclaimed John, taking -it quickly. He knew the packet contained cocaine, and -he slipped it carefully into his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will report to us wherever you are?" inquired -Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wherever I am," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Great matters are pending," responded the doctor; -"soon you will be of use to us. In regard to finance," -he added, after a moment's pause, "you will write to -our Captain Cherriton." He rose and gripped John's -hand. "You will have no cause to regret your -association with us, I can assure you of that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you'll have some cause to regret your -association with me," thought John, as he looked into -the heavy jowled face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later he was out in the road, bidding -good-bye to Captain Cherriton, who waved a careless -farewell to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall meet soon again," said the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded, leapt on to his bicycle, and rode briskly -down the road.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xviii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the following evening, at eight o'clock, John Manton -presented himself at Dacent Smith's apartment in -Jermyn Street. He had hurried to London in answer -to a wire, telling him to report himself personally. Elaine, -who had made the journey with him, had gone on to her -rooms in Camden Town. The door of Dacent Smith's -suite of rooms was opened by Grew, who conducted John -immediately to the great man's apartment. As always, -when John visited his Chief's abode, the speckless cleanliness -of the stairs, the glitter of varnish and brass reminded -him somewhat of the interior of a battleship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His superior's own room was orderly as usual, and -Dacent Smith himself, who occupied a deep leather-covered -chair at the hearth, rose and greeted him with a -cordial handshake. The elder man was in evening -clothes; he was, as always, plump, ruddy-cheeked, -bright-eyed, and cheery in manner. His politeness -struck John in marked contrast to the gruffness of Doctor -Voules. These two men, Voules and Dacent Smith, heads -of two great secret armies, were conducting a duel for -supremacy. They were totally different in character -and calibre, and John (perhaps he was prejudiced in the -matter) was prepared at any odds to back Dacent Smith -to win.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Help yourself to a cigarette, Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John took a cigarette, and seated himself in a chair -opposite his Chief. For a moment there was silence, -then Dacent Smith, who had been watching the ascending -smoke, looked at the younger man with the faintly -humorous light that sometimes animated his vivid eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to see you alive, Treves. You have had -one of the narrowest of escapes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John expressed his surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wasn't aware of any narrow escape, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps not," said Dacent Smith, "but yesterday -morning, when you went to Voules's house, you literally -walked into the lions' den. Fortunately, however, you -were successful in preserving a whole skin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had no sense of anything adventurous happening -during that visit," John returned, full of curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell you exactly just what did happen," Dacent -Smith continued. He rose, went to his desk, and drew -a letter from one of the drawers. "Read that letter," -he said, "and see what your chances would have been -if it had arrived at Voules's house before you did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who wrote it?" asked John, looking at the single -initial "S" at the end of the sheet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your amiable friend, Crumbs," answered Dacent -Smith. "He discovered Cherriton's letter in your -dispatch case."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John lifted his eyebrows in intense surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had no idea that letter was discovered, sir. I took -every precaution against discovery, and should have -destroyed it, but it appeared to me a specimen of -Cherriton's handwriting might be useful to you in the -future."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be useful when we come to stop his activities," -answered Dacent Smith. "In the meantime its -discovery by Sims very nearly resulted in your career -coming to a sudden end. You can imagine the situation, -Treves," he went on, "if that letter had arrived at Brooke -when you were in Voules's house. For their own sakes, -Voules and the others would never have dared to let you -go. However, the letter never reached Voules, for -Sinclair had it out of the locked bag at the fort five -minutes after Sims deposited it there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a lucky thing for me," John said, handing back -the letter to his Chief, "that Sinclair acted the way he -did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Devilish lucky, Treves." Dacent Smith rose, placed -the letter in a drawer in his desk and returned to his -seat at the hearth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Treves, as to Voules. Who is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is some one in authority," answered John. -"There is no doubt of that whatever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is his appearance?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is a heavily-built, bullet-headed man, between -fifty and sixty. I should judge him to be used to -exercising autocratic authority over others. When I reached -Rollo Meads there were also present in the house two -Germans, who gave me the impression of being naval -officers. The fourth member of the party was Captain -Cherriton, whose real name is Rathenau, as I discovered -owing to the fact that they spoke German, which -Cherriton believes I don't understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John continued and detailed fully his interview with -Voules. He described his receipt of the cocaine tabloids -from Conrad and his exhibition of the bogus five little -wounds on his wrist, which had convinced Voules that -he was a victim of the drug habit. When he had -concluded Dacent Smith's lips tightened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You acted very shrewdly, Treves. I will see that -Voules and his little party are kept under observation. -From your description, I can tell you exactly who Voules -is, Treves," he said. "We have suspected his identity -for some time. Until two months ago Voules was -General von Kuhne, in command of a corps of the -Fifteenth Army. He is a Badenser, born and reared in -Constance. Our investigation department informs me -that he is credited by the enemy with great ability. -In character he is instinctively aggressive; a fighter -imbued through and through with the offensive spirit. -It is to General von Kuhne that we owe our present -awkward predicament on the South Coast. Outwardly -nothing is wrong, but our department knows that -Germany is preparing a heavy blow. We are contending -against something new, big, and masterful; something -that has been arranged and planned for months. How -far General von Kuhne's plans have matured I do not -yet know. We are so far, Treves, only groping towards -knowledge. My reports tell me that at least eight forts -on the South Coast are being subtly tampered with in -one way or another. You have seen yourself the -masterly manner in which Sims managed to work his will -at Heatherpoint.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sims's dossier," he went on, "reached me in full -only to-night, and is a further instance of an effective -German trick. Sims's real name is Steinbaum. He is -a Hamburg Jew, who emigrated to America in 1912. -We cannot trace him from then until 1915, when, with -the German naval attaché at Washington, Captain -Boy Ed, he made an attempt to blow up the Pittsburg -bridge works. He escaped the American police, and -vanished. The next step in his career was when he -landed at Liverpool from America. He was already -a German spy, and enlisted in our army under the -name of Sims, a baker by trade."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose," inquired John, "the idea of arresting -Voules and his immediate confederates is outside our -plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith nodded. He put his finger-tips together, -and remained thoughtfully silent for several -minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; it would not do," he said, as though desirous -of convincing John of the correctness of his judgment -"If I were to lay Voules, and a dozen of the others whom -we know, suddenly by the heels, we should damage our -chances, possibly irretrievably. You see, if we did that, -we should be removing our special avenues of information. -By arresting the spies we know, we should lose -the great mass of information we manage to glean from -them, and at the same time should be obliged to -continue the fight against other agents whom we do not -know. Do you follow me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded. "I confess it never occurred to me -in that light, but I can see the force of your argument."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We always stand to learn something from Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, by secretly reading all her letters," -continued Dacent Smith, "but if we arrest her we lose -that advantage. Then, again, their present scheme in -the South may be so far advanced that it will work to -fruition by itself, even if we remove a dozen individuals. -General von Kuhne is, of course, the keystone of the -whole business, and when the time comes we shall get -him——" he paused a moment, and looked quizzically -into John's face—"or he will get us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will have to rise pretty early in the morning to -get you," thought John, genuinely impressed by his -reasoning. Nevertheless, he inwardly admitted that -Kuhne was an antagonist well fitted to measure swords -even with Dacent Smith. Always, in these short interviews -he obtained with his Chief, John felt himself drawn -anew to the head of his department. Manton had no -doubt whatever of Dacent Smith's ability, his intelligence -was keen as a sword-blade, and swift as that same blade -in the hands of a brilliant fencer. For all that, it seemed -strange to John, as he sat in the well-furnished, -neatly-ordered, bachelor apartment, to think that this quiet, -well-groomed, middle-aged gentleman was the head -and heart, the chief nerve centre, in fact, of the greatest -defensive force in the country.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," said Dacent Smith, when he concluded his -observations, "is there anything at all troubling your -mind, Treves, anything you'd like to get off your chest, -for instance?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked at him quickly, wondering if his keen -eye had detected anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he confessed, "as a matter of fact, there is -something that bothers me a good deal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pass me another cigarette," said Dacent Smith, -"and let me hear it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John handed him another cigarette, and hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on," urged his Chief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I should like to report, sir," John said at -length, "that my personal position has become—well, -peculiarly difficult during the past few days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you find your work disappointing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am keener on my work than ever," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," confessed John, "to be precise, I find I am -getting rather entangled with a lady." His tone was -serious, and Dacent Smith took the statement gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth is rather pressing whenever -I meet her," he said, with a deprecating smile, "but she -is not the lady in question."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is the lady?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was silent; he found a strange diffidence in -tackling this subject. It was a matter of some difficulty -to state exactly what was the situation between himself -and Elaine. Dacent Smith waited, and then tapped the -arm of his chair with his finger, which was his only manner -of showing impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Treves, who is the lady?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard Treves's wife, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! And wherein lies the particular awkwardness?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yesterday she came down to the Gordon Hotel in -Newport to see me, and stayed the night there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was that awkward for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid it was, sir. It seems," went on John, -"that there was a disagreement between her and her -husband, which ended in the lady refusing to live with -him until he improved his habits."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A very proper and spirited attitude to take," -responded Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is my opinion," said John, "but, unfortunately, -she has decided to forgive her husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith suddenly sat erect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't mean she has made any untoward discovery?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no," said John, "she accepts me absolutely. -And so far as I know she has never experienced the -faintest doubt. But the awkwardness comes in through -the fact that she has decided to forgive her husband and -take him back again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith looked at the younger man for a minute, -then whistled softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By gad, Treves, yours is certainly a difficult path."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad you see it as I do, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Devilish difficult—and what's the lady like? Is she -young and pretty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is about twenty-three years of age," said John, -"and—and, well pretty doesn't quite describe her. She -has dark hair and grey eyes. She is rather above the -average in height. She——" John hesitated and -stumbled. "I am no connoisseur in these matters, sir, -but in my opinion she is an unusually beautiful girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith looked at him squarely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And that, no doubt, intensifies your difficulty, eh, -Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my position last night," he said briefly, "was -more than awkward." A sudden note of irritation found -its way into John's voice; he could not have himself -explained why he felt irritation. "The situation was -wrong altogether. I felt I had no right to pass as -Bernard Treves. It is one thing to deceive Treves's -father in a good cause, or to deceive everybody else, but -it is quite another matter to trick a young, good-looking -woman the way I had to deceive Mrs. Treves. It doesn't -seem to me to be playing the game, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean," inquired Dacent Smith, quietly, "the -young lady made advances to you, she forgave you, and -offered to live with you again as your wife, and you, being -a man of honour, felt the situation keenly? Tell me, -Treves," he went on, with a new interest in the matter, -"what is she like? Her mental equipment, I mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is very feminine, and by no means a fool," -explained John. "I evaded her last night, but she came -to London with me to-day, and is waiting for me this -evening. She knows Cherriton and Manwitz. Cherriton, -as a matter of fact, has been paying her undesirable -attentions." John, who had been looking at the hearth-rug, -suddenly lifted his face. "That's the whole situation, -sir, and I don't feel that I can go on deceiving her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long minute there was silence in the little room. -Dacent Smith's little gilt clock on the mantelpiece chimed -the half-hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're in deep waters here, Treves," he said slowly -and seriously. "I can see only two ways out of it. One -is that she should be restored to her undesirable husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If," said John, "Treves is cured of his drug habit, I -suppose that would be the right thing to do." Even as -he spoke a feeling shot through him that was quite -definitely antagonistic to this idea. He felt jealous and -utterly resentful at the thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He isn't cured, and shows no likelihood of being -cured," answered Dacent Smith. "My last report is -that he tried to break out of the nursing home, and very -nearly got away. He is in the condition where he would -give his very soul to get drugs. No," he said, shaking his -head, "we'll leave Bernard Treves in his present -isolation. In surrendering his personality to you he is -making some slight restitution; he is unconsciously doing -something for his country. We need waste no pity on -him. So far as we are concerned, Treves does not count."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What if Treves had actually managed to escape, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case 'Voules' and the rest of them would -be down on you like a ton of bricks, but we need not at -present anticipate a calamity of that sort. Now in regard -to Treves's wife, when you see her to-night, give her my -compliments, and say I should like her to call here one -afternoon this week. I think I can then ease the -awkwardness of your position in regard to her. I have an -idea at any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later John made his way out to Camden -Town, and rang the bell of 65, Bowles Avenue. Elaine -herself opened the door and offered him a smiling welcome.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xix"><span class="large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the soft illumination of the white and gold -dining-salon of the Golden Pavilion Hotel John found himself -completely at home. Two days had passed since his visit -to Elaine, and he was again at work under the ægis of -Dacent Smith. He had chosen a quiet table in the corner, -had selected the dishes for his dinner, and was leaning -back in his chair surveying the brilliant scene with an -appreciative eye. The Golden Pavilion Hotel is famed -alike for its refined and luxurious furnishings, its band, -its cuisine, and its exclusiveness. The head waiter, who -looked like an archbishop, advanced soundlessly over the -rich carpet, and stood at John's elbow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon," said the man, in a low, smooth -voice, "but the lady at the table beyond the second -pillar, sir, would like to have a word with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John raised his head and glanced in the direction the -man had indicated. He had already seen Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, and had made a special point of concealing -the fact. He rose now, however, and moved across the -room between crowded tables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, seated with a party of friends, -flashed a brilliant smile at him when he advanced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you poor lonely creature," she exclaimed, as -she placed her jewelled fingers in his. "I saw you -moping in your corner," she continued, when a waiter had -brought an extra chair and John had accepted an -invitation to dine with her party, "and took pity on you; -don't you think that was nice of me?" She looked at -him with a long, deep glance, conscious of her striking -beauty. Her beauty was of the instantly arresting order. -The fact that the art of coiffeur and cosmetic enabled -her to heighten her charms was all in her favour where -men were concerned. Quite, as it were, by accident, she -now laid her fingers on John's sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must introduce you to my guests. My husband -you already know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John bowed slightly towards Mr. Beecher Monmouth, -whose evening clothes intensified the sallowness of his -complexion. John noted the parchment-like character -of his skin, the tired look in his eyes, and the manipulation -of his thin hair to create the effect of youthful plenty. -He was an old man striving hopelessly to look young. -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned her eyes from her husband -towards the slender figure of a woman at her right-hand -side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Rachel," she said, "may I present Mr. Treves." John -bowed again, and Lady Rachel Marvin smiled at -him graciously. She was a woman of slender figure, with -exceptionally large, long-lashed eyes. Her neck was long, -slender and white, and she wore diamond ear-rings, which -scintillated as she moved her head. Her age was -probably thirty-five, and she was, in appearance, distinctly -aristocratic. Her voice was thin and high-pitched, and -she talked incessantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The third member of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's party -was a fat woman of fifty, the wealthy wife of a colonel -in the gunners. Any woman assessing the jewels -Mrs. Pomfret Bond wore would have known that she was -wealthy, and that she was determined other people should -know it. She was a foolish, vulgar woman, and John, -looking at her, realised almost immediately that she would -be as wax in the hands of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. But it -was to Lady Rachel Marvin that John turned his attention. -"Did you know the Seventh Division has been moved -from Aldershot?" she was inquiring, looking at Beecher -Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said the elderly man, "we don't hear anything -in Parliament, Lady Rachel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard it only quite by accident," babbled Lady -Rachel. "You know my cousin, Derrick, is in the -Coldstreams; you remember Derrick?" she said, turning -her big eyes upon Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "I have -told you so much about him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth smiled brilliantly and nodded. -Lady Rachel then went on to explain that it was Derrick -who had told her of a new gun being tested at Woolwich. -Derrick had been on the G.H.Q. Staff, "and," went on -Lady Rachel, "he is almost as mysterious about it as his -friend Commander Loyson is about the new cruiser—the -</span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>, which has just been put into commission at ——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there a new cruiser being commissioned at ——?" -inquired John, sliding into the conversation. He was so -apparently interested that Lady Rachel looked at him -with a pleased expression on her somewhat foolish face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid, Mr. Treves, I ought not to chatter about -it. But being behind the scenes, and knowing so many -people one naturally picks up little bits of news here and -there. It is quite easy to piece the bits together. I have -not heard anything actually about the new cruiser," she -said, "the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>, I mean, but from things Commander -Loyson said to Derrick, and from other things I have -heard, I can assure you it is something wonderful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, listening to her chatter, wondered how much of -this information she had, out of sheer vanity, passed on -to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Rachel Marvin certainly knew a great number of -people, and her social position gave her many chances to -pick up exclusive information. Her silly, butterfly -existence consisted in flitting from one drawing-room to -another. Here she exchanged such gossip as she had -been able to collect from her equally frivolous friends. -As John listened to her he realised that such women as -Lady Rachel are a real source of danger to the nation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When dinner was at an end Lady Rachel went to -speak to some friends at another table, and the minute -she had gone Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned her attention -solely to John, ignoring Mrs. Pomfret Bond and the "Ogre."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Naughty boy," said Mrs. Beecher Monmouth under -her breath. "Why have you never been to see me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been in the Isle of Wight visiting my father," -answered John promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that," answered she; "therefore, and -because you sent me those Russian cigarettes, I intend -to forgive you! Now, you must come and see me soon," -she went on, "there are many things I want to talk to -you about."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to talk to you about quite a number of -things," responded John in the same intimate tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When can you come?" asked she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any time you like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not to-morrow, the 'Ogre' will be at home then," -she said, in a voice too low for Mr. Beecher Monmouth -to catch. "Don't you think he is looking very old and -worn?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John glanced at Beecher Monmouth's glazed countenance -and tired eyes, and even at that moment the elderly -politician was looking adoringly at his wife, admiring -the richness of her hair, the fine contour of her shoulders, -and the brilliance of her complexion. John felt almost -sorry for the befooled and weary Member of Parliament, -who had sold his old age and his happiness into the -bondage of this woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come to tea the day after to-morrow," said -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, and John accepted the invitation -with alacrity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two days later when he presented himself at five -o'clock in the afternoon at Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -residence in Grosvenor Square, he was ushered -immediately into the lady's boudoir.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had seen that room only in the illumination of -the pink-shaded electric light, now he saw it again in -daylight, and found it even more luxurious than he had -imagined—the white polar-bear rug, the brilliant-hued -Chinese </span><em class="italics">kakemonos</em><span> hung on the wall behind Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's divan, the long gilt-framed mirrors, and -gilt-legged chairs all conspired to create an atmosphere -of sumptuous richness. Mrs. Beecher Monmouth in an -afternoon gown which gave her almost a slender and -distinguished appearance, was seated in a low arm-chair. -Lady Rachel Marvin occupied the divan, and John, -much as he disliked this foolish ox-eyed woman of fashion, -was obliged to admit that she had disposed herself -gracefully upon the cushions. The third guest was -Mrs. Pomfret Bond, who was delighted to be in that society, -and talked as much military gossip as she could to show -that she, too, was in the swim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John had been cordially received, and had -accepted a cup of tea and a fragment of bread and butter, -he seated himself at the foot of the divan and entered -into conversation with Lady Rachel. Under orders from -Dacent Smith he had come there with that express purpose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have been talking of the dreadful news, Mr. Treves," -said Lady Rachel, biting a slip of bread and -butter with long sharp teeth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean the sinking of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>?" inquired John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, how appalling it is," said she. "I heard it -before it appeared in the papers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's one of the worst disasters we have had for -some time," responded John; "a new ship costing a -million pounds of public money, and two hundred fine -lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Pomfret Bond spoke up indignantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't imagine how the Germans find out about our -ships. We're supposed to have an Intelligence -Department. Why don't they put a stop to this sort of -thing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect they do the best they can," remarked John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But one always has to reckon with spies," said -Mrs. Pomfret Bond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> was a new vessel," observed -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth; "how could they find out when -she was to leave ——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Germans must have found out," intervened -Lady Rachel, claiming the conversation again, "for no -submarines had been in those waters for weeks, and they -had been swept for mines the day before. I know this -for a fact."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked at her keenly. That afternoon he had -had a long conversation with Dacent Smith in regard to -Lady Rachel Marvin. The fact that she had, two days -ago, mentioned the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> during her irresponsible chatter -at dinner, had aroused a suspicion in John's mind that -possibly the disaster which had happened to the new -cruiser had been directly due to her foolish vanity—to -her ineradicable desire to obtain social distinction by -revealing to her friends her superior knowledge of what -went on behind the scenes. This idea, as he sat in her -presence now, listening to her talk, grew in strength, -and at the first opportunity that occurred, he drew -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth aside. He knew that he was -venturing upon very thin ice in putting questions to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you bad boy," whispered Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -"why have you been trying to flirt with Lady Rachel?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had seated himself on a low Turkish stool at her -side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could I see Lady Rachel when you are in the -room?" he answered, gallantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you only meant it," responded Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, "I'd give you two pieces of sugar in your -next cup of tea!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Rachel cannot hold a candle to you," affirmed -John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mustn't be hard on her," returned Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth. In the afternoon light the "Ogre's" wife -looked scarcely twenty-five, a remarkably beautiful and -imperious woman. Even John was obliged to confess -that no fault existed in her passionate and somewhat -sensuous beauty. For her part, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -was so used to admiration that she accepted John's -flattery as a matter of course. Bernard Treves, she told -herself, was one of the strings to her bow, and quite the -nicest-looking boy of them all. "You mustn't be hard on -poor Lady Rachel," she said; "she is such a dear, -delightful chatterbox."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Rachel seems to know a good deal about the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned her eyes and fixed her -gaze swiftly upon him; then she remarked, quietly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of her relations is a big-wig at the Admiralty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That fact, and what she picked up from other of her -naval friends, enabled her," said John, "to give a guess -at when the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> would leave ——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth became suddenly very still.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you know that, Bernard?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John observed a hardening of the line of her mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I merely put two and two together and assumed it," -he said. Then, quietly daring, he leaned forward, -unobserved by others in the room, and seized Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it true?" he questioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him a long minute, and then smiled, but -there was a cruel light in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is true," pursued John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A silence followed; then Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -inclined her fine head very slightly. John was dexterous -enough not to slide his hand away from hers too soon. -The aversion he felt from her made him remove it as -soon as he reasonably could. Then he drew in a deep -breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," he said, in a low voice, "she told you when -the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> was to sail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And though Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was too cautious -to admit the fact, John knew in his heart that it was -absolutely true. Lady Rachel, exercising her silly desire -for gossip, had been tricked into imparting this fatal -information. Because of this she was, John believed, -just as much responsible for the sinking of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> as if -she herself had discharged the torpedo which wrought its -doom. She was, in fact, an unwitting traitor to her -country. And John, as he moved from Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's side, felt a certain implacable animosity -towards this vain society woman, with her wide eyes, -her high-pitched voice, her elegant aristocratic poses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, he was politeness itself as he drew her -towards the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to have a word with you alone, Lady Rachel," -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they were out of earshot of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth and Mrs. Pomfret Bond, John lowered his voice, -and looked down into the big, long-lashed eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were speaking a few minutes ago, Lady Rachel," -he said, "of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Rachel smiled and nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," went on John, "I ought to inform you that -I am a member of the Intelligence Department!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, are you really?" exclaimed Lady Rachel, looking -at him with a sudden vivid interest. "I have so -often wanted to meet some one in the secret service. I -think you all so splendid!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad you appreciate us," John answered dryly; -"perhaps, Lady Rachel," he went on, "you would like -to know more about our department?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should love it dearly," said she, with an expression -of delight on her weakly pretty features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said John, "if you care to accompany me to -my office in a few minutes, I will present you to my Chief. -He has already expressed a wish to meet you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Rachel looked puzzled for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I know him, Mr. Treves. I may have met -him in society. I suppose I mustn't ask his name?" she -added mysteriously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, don't ask his name," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten minutes later Lady Rachel Marvin was seated -beside John in a taxi. The vehicle glided out of -Grosvenor Place and passed Green Park.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you looking so grim?" observed the lady. -as John leaned back with folded arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am thinking of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> and of the two hundred -fine fellows who were drowned yesterday."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xx"><span class="large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was six o'clock when John stepped out into Dacent -Smith's bachelor room. His Chief was seated at his desk, -deep in work. John closed the door and crossed the -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" asked Dacent Smith, raising his head and still -sitting with poised pen at his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was right, sir, in regard to Lady Rachel Marvin. -The information that sunk the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> was conveyed by -her to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth two days ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't mean she intentionally conveyed it?" -exclaimed Dacent Smith, rising and looking at John in -amazement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no, sir, not at all; she conveyed it with no -intention to do harm, and only out of an inveterate habit -of gossip."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith drew his brows together. His expression -was more stern in that moment than John had ever seen it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A damnable habit of gossiping," he observed forcibly. -"Well, what have you done, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have brought the lady with me, sir, thinking you -would wish to act at once in regard to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith nodded in approbation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send her in to me, Treves, and wait outside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John went out of the room, and Dacent Smith moved -to the mantelshelf and looked for a moment at the -photograph of a girl of eighteen, a girl who looked scarcely -more than a child. He was still at the hearth when Lady -Rachel was ushered into the room by John, who closed -the door and left the two together. What took place -between Dacent Smith and the woman whose foolish -vanity had sunk the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span> John did not know, but he -was able to guess pretty well, for twenty minutes later -Dacent Smith opened the door and summoned him into -the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John entered and found Lady Rachel standing near -his Chief's desk. Her face was white, her nose -unromantically red; she had been crying. On Dacent -Smith's desk lay a letter in Lady Rachel's handwriting.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>DEAR BOB, it ran, </span><em class="italics">I have had a sudden breakdown -in health. The doctors inform me I am to go to Pitt -Lunan Hydro for at least four months. I may not even -be well enough to return to town even then. Forgive me, -Bob, for not being able to say good-bye, but I am obliged to -hurry away at once</em><span>.</span></p> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">Your devoted wife,</em></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>RACHEL.</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As John entered the room Lady Rachel Marvin folded -this letter, placed it in an envelope, and, still standing, -addressed it to her husband, "Lieutenant-Commander -Marvin, H.M.S. ——, Southampton." She closed the -envelope and accepted a stamp from Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith broke the long silence that followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves," said he, "Lady Rachel leaves Euston for -Scotland to-night by the seven o'clock train."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want to go to Scotland!" intervened Lady -Rachel petulantly. "I dislike hydros intensely; I -think them absolutely detestable places!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith watched her for a moment with unrelenting -eyes, then spoke in a tone there was no mistaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Rachel, you will take the train for Scotland -to-night. You will then stay there the full period my -department has prescribed for you." Lady Rachel -flashed a rebellious look at him, but Dacent Smith -continued in his unyielding tones: "Failing this, you will -find yourself, I can assure you, in a place far more -'detestable' to you than even the most uncomfortable -of hydros!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to his desk. For a moment Lady Rachel -wavered, then, seeing from his attitude that resistance -was hopeless, she lifted her head and went haughtily -out of the room. John escorted her to the street, helped -her into a taxi, and saw her drive away after a flash of -her big eyes that was meant either to consume him -with fire or to freeze him to death; he did not know -which. When John returned his Chief was standing at -the mantelshelf. The expression of sternness had -entirely left his face. In his fingers he held the photograph -of a charming girl, scarcely more than a child. For a -minute he was silent, his eyes upon the figure in the silver -frame; then he held up the picture and showed it to John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is my niece, Treves," he said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John took the photograph and inspected it critically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An extremely pretty girl, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is just eighteen, Treves. She became engaged -to young Rashleigh, gunnery lieutenant on the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>." His -tones deepened in intensity. "That was four days -ago—and to-day Rashleigh is dead. He was one of the -finest fellows who ever stepped. And, in my opinion, -he and two hundred others lost their lives solely because -Lady Rachel Marvin could not keep her mouth shut. -My niece, who is still only a child—you can see for -yourself what she is like, Treves"—for the first time his -voice shook with emotion—"my niece is at home lying -in a semi-conscious condition. The doctors tell us that -her reason is threatened—and all this because a silly -woman babbled about things that didn't concern her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man who was one of the greatest powers in the -country was still holding the photograph in his fingers, -his eyes fixed pitifully upon the delicate girlish beauty -of his niece. He replaced it slowly on the mantelshelf, -then, turning, stood looking before him, his hands -clenched at his side. The sternness of his lips at that -moment revealed to John all the hidden strength behind -his kindly exterior; he was stirred to the depths. And -suddenly he flashed a look at John and struck his open -palm with a clenched fist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I had my way, Treves," he said between tense -lips, "if the powers that be would make me autocrat -for a week, I'd treat these fool women as traitors. An -unguarded word," he went on, "is, in my opinion, just -as much an act of disloyalty in time of war as an insult -to the flag or the army. If the public only knew it, we -have lost ship after ship, and possibly thousands of men, -as a result of vain gossip in clubs, trains, shops and smart -drawing-rooms. On Saturday we lost a cruiser worth -a million. Young Rashleigh died, and two hundred -splendid sailors, because Lady Rachel Marvin must -have her afternoon's social success! What do you -think of it, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was thinking of the tragedy of it all—of the -desolated homes—the two hundred homes where -sorrow stalked that day. He was thinking of the -sweet-faced, broken-hearted girl, hovering on the verge -of sanity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to wring Lady Rachel's neck!" said John, -swept out of himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could tell you a score of such cases," said Dacent -Smith. "In one case a present of a hundred cigarettes -and a silly woman's curiosity meant one of the greatest -disasters that has occurred to us since the war began." He -suddenly stopped, pulled himself up, and became -normal in tone. He was fully himself again, the keen, -resourceful man of action. "Now, Treves," he said, -"we must get back to business. Lady Rachel Marvin -has been a valuable 'feeder' to the enemy. She is now -out of action, however. I regard," he went on, "Beecher -Monmouth, M.P., as also dangerous. Is that your -opinion?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My opinion," said John, "is that Beecher Monmouth -is not disloyal, but, as he is wax in his wife's hands, his -political position makes him dangerous."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't believe he could keep a secret from her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From what I've seen of them both, sir, I should -doubt it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith went to his desk and made a note on -his writing pad. "I will write a note to the Home -Secretary. I think we can get rid of Beecher Monmouth -without arousing suspicion. Now, Treves, in regard to -the sinking of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>—we are a little bit at sea in this -matter. Mrs. Beecher Monmouth and her accomplices -have out-manoeuvred us. In some manner or other she -managed to get her information to Germany, or to a -German submarine commander, eight hours after picking -up the facts from Lady Rachel Marvin. We want to -know how she managed to do this, Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He crossed the room as he spoke, and took a sheaf of -papers from his cabinet of drawers against the wall. -He handed the documents to John. John observed that -the sheets were thin and almost transparent, and that -each sheet had been written over in indelible pencil.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have in your hand," explained Dacent Smith, -"intercepted copies of all Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -letters since the fifteenth of last month. That is," he -added, "all the letters she has sent through the post. -You will notice among them three advertisements—all -jewellery for sale."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John glanced at the pile of letters in his hand. There -were among them orders to tradesmen, half a dozen -letters to a dressmaker, showing the great care with -which Mrs. Beecher Monmouth apparelled herself; and -two letters written and posted to her husband. These -last were interlarded with extravagant expressions of -affection and love. But it was the third advertisement, -addressed to a famous daily paper, that held John's -interest. This ran:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Lady wishes to sell privately a pearl and platinum -pendant, perfectly-matched pearls, surrounding Orient -pearl of splendid lustre.—Apply Box A3656."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John closely examined this advertisement, and the -other two, which were similar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think she is in debt, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beecher Monmouth's a rich man," answered Dacent -Smith, "with big interest in the timber business. -However, one never knows what an extravagant woman may -succeed in spending. I think it may be worth your -while, Treves, to follow up the trail of this advertisement. -I want you to apply yourself assiduously to the cultivation -of this lady for the present. And keep well in mind -the fact that, though her letters show nothing, she is -yet conveying news regularly to the enemy."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxi"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Two evenings later Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's Spanish -maid came to the door of her mistress's boudoir, knocked, -and entered quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doctor Voules is here, madam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told you, Cecily, I was not at home!" said -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. "I don't want to see Doctor -Voules—I don't want to see anybody!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, madam," protested the maid, "it would be -impossible to refuse to see Doctor Voules!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something took place between mistress and maid—an -exchange of glances—which seemed somewhat to -alter Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's mood of irritation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Cecily, let him come up." And when -Cecily had departed to summon Doctor Voules, -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth went to her low Turkish table, lit -a buff-coloured cigarette, and stood with her back to -the hearth, smoking somewhat more rapidly than usual. -A knock came at the door, and Doctor Voules entered. -He strolled into the apartment with his shoulders well -back, his heavy chin thrust forward, the smile that sat -so ill upon his harsh face was well in evidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Mrs. Monmouth, my felicitations!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth took the gloved hand languidly -and turned away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't felicitate me on anything, Doctor!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>!" protested the Doctor. "That was -a superb stroke for the Fatherland! It is not often I -am lavish of praise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are certainly not a woman's man!" retorted -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, flashing a look at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your beauty is apparent to me, as it would be to a -much younger man, I can assure you of that, my dear -</span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," said Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not talking of beauty—I am talking of moods," -replied she. "You observe nothing of my disturbance!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Voules, who did not believe in moods, who -never permitted such weakness in his subordinates, -pressed his lips tightly together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will be good enough, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he -commanded, "to be a little more precise and explicit. -Something has occurred, no doubt, to ruffle your temper." He -went to a chair at the hearth, seated himself, asked -permission to smoke, and lit one of his big, black cigars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth looked at him squarely for a -moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, my personal sufferings are nothing to you! -It is nothing to you, for instance, that my friend, Lady -Rachel Marvin, has vanished!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Voules lifted his eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In what manner has she vanished?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is one of the most useful friends I have ever had," -returned Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "and has suddenly -disappeared without leaving me a note or a line."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Voules drew his brows together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Refresh my memory, please, in regard to this lady."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is the foolish little chatterbox who provided me -with all the information I needed in regard to the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>," -retorted Mrs. Beecher Monmouth curtly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Voules suddenly became all attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you mean, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>, that this lady has -vanished?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth assured him of the fact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one knows," she went on, "where she is. She -was my most intimate friend. I had put all my hopes -in her, Excellenz! Then, to add to my vexation, my -husband has been suddenly and unexpectedly appointed -to a Government commission of inquiry in Ireland. He -is delighted, of course; it is an honour for him. Then, -again," went on Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "Mrs. Pomfret -Bond, who was in the habit of telling me everything she -knew, who was always scraping up bits of gossip that -were of use, is——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has she vanished also?" inquired Voules, suddenly -rising.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," returned Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "but she -has become mute as a fish. My opinion is that she has -been warned not to talk, and that I have at last become -a suspected person!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Voules looked at her and shook his ponderous head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no! Your position, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>, is too secure -for that; also you are too clever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not a fool," answered Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -"but these things disturb me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your love of the Fatherland, your belief in final -victory, will sustain you. You lose your friend, Lady -Rachel Marvin, but to a woman of your beauty and -position nothing is impossible. You shall get other -fools—is it not so? England, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>, is full of -fools!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved across to her and took her hand firmly in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Soon you shall have your reward. I will promise you -my very best efforts. You will wait yet a little while -longer. My plans," he added quietly, "are shaping -themselves with the perfection of clockwork. Enormous -things have been done, my dear </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>, in the last -few weeks, and disaffection now, even from you, would -destroy the harmony.... Remember your sentiments -towards these people!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I remember them well enough!" answered Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth. She was still standing at the hearth, -and looked steadily before her as she spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good!" exclaimed Voules in his throat. "We will -now come to the purpose of my visit. You shall have -your part in the big work afoot. I assure you there are -bigger things than the sinking of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>! For instance, -on the twenty-eighth we shall strike a blow that will not -rapidly be forgotten by these English!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He suddenly snapped his teeth together and drew tight -his lips; a gleam of ferocity lit in his hard eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These English!" he exclaimed between his teeth. -"Their arrogance maddens me! It is a torture to me -to live among them, concealed thus as a civilian! I am -maddened by their complacency!" he went on, "their -calm! Nevertheless, we shall strike deep this time! -Your work, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he said, speaking in the tone -of masterful authority that was his real habit, "your -work is not difficult. On the twenty-fourth I request -you to go to Heatherpoint Fort. It is fortunate that -your husband is away. You can thus go to the Isle of -Wight ostensibly for a holiday. While there you will -make the acquaintance of the adjutant of Heatherpoint, -who visits regularly the —— Hotel in Newport. My report -is that this young Lieutenant Parkson is susceptible to -beauty. You, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he smiled his hard smile, -"are, indeed, beautiful enough to engage the attention -of one far less susceptible!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you wish me to do with this particular -susceptible man?" inquired Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -with slight sarcasm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are to engage the young man's attention, and -his affections."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You appear to forget, Excellenz, that I am a married -woman of social position!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not forget, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>; but your complaisance -on that account will be more than ever flattering. The -young man in question will not be able to resist the charms -of the beautiful and wealthy society woman who is—to -fall in love with him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth smiled, and spoke with a -touch of irony.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am your servant, Excellenz!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are the servant of the Fatherland," answered -Voules gravely, "and all I require is that this young -man, Lieutenant Parkson, shall not be at his post in the -fort on the night of the twenty-eighth. How you will -succeed in keeping him away from duty is a matter for -your own discretion—I have the fullest confidence in -you. Captain Cherriton undertook the work, but the -young man in question neither drinks nor gambles. -Cherriton's efforts ended in complete failure. Moreover, -our agent inside the fort has been strangely silent of -late. We have received neither signal nor message from -him for some days. If you play your cards neatly with -Parkson, you will possibly secure an invitation to tea -at the fort mess."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went on and gave her a rapid sketch of Steinbaum, -otherwise known as "Crumbs." The silence of "Crumbs" -during the past few days had puzzled and disturbed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have made a number of arrangements in regard -to Heatherpoint Fort," he concluded, "and it is -absolutely essential to our purpose that no guns should be -fired from that spot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes suddenly lit up. He was thinking of his -great scheme, which was hourly drawing nearer fruition, -and, on parting, he gripped Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -hand in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>," he announced, "glorious things are -shortly to occur!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he had gone Mrs. Beecher Monmouth seated -herself in a chair and stared thoughtfully into the fire. -She was conscious of a sense of doubt and uneasiness. -General von Kuhne was a soldier of long training, -masterful and aggressive. His gift of organisation, his theory -of attack was always excellent—nevertheless, he was not -subtle, he was not sensitive to the importance of little -incidents. The sudden disappearance of Lady Rachel -meant nothing to him, aroused no suspicion in him, and yet...</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In pursuance of Dacent Smith's instructions, John -presented himself at the massive doors of 289, Grosvenor -Place, two nights later. He had pondered much upon -those three advertisements, and the more he considered -the matter, the more Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's desire -privately to sell her jewels struck him as unusual. It was -not usual, he told himself, for a woman of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's position to dispossess herself of jewellery -through the medium of advertisements in a newspaper. -There are half a dozen firms in Bond Street alone, of -proved honesty, any one of which is willing to make -purchases of this kind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rang the bell, and the butler presently drew open -the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very sorry, sir," the man began, "but madame -is not at home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John expressed his complete surprise. He was, however, -not in the least surprised, and had planned his visit -with the sole object of finding Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -away from home. For a minute he hesitated, looking -doubtfully at the butler.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you," he inquired, "tell me if Mrs. Monmouth's -maid is in. I have a message to give her for her mistress."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can take any message you wish, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, no," said John, smiling at him; "what -I have to say is—is rather personal to Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir," answered the sedate servant, and -bowed. "Will you kindly step into the morning-room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John went into the morning-room, moved to the -window and looked into Grosvenor Place, out over the -broad smooth road to the high brick wall surrounding -the royal gardens. A few minutes elapsed, and then -Cecily, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's maid, came quietly in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wish to see me, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Cecily." He looked into her face, noted her -bead-black eyes, her olive skin, and the slight tendency -to a moustache at the corner of each lip. "Cecily," he -said, "I have really come to ask your advice on a little -personal matter." Cecily looked at him with an -unreadable expression on her sullen countenance. "I want -to give Mrs. Beecher Monmouth a present," went on -John. "A little matter of a pair of pearl ear-rings. Can -you tell me if she is fond of pearls?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pearls, monsieur; oh, no!" Cecily shook her head. -"Rubies or emeralds, yes, monsieur, but pearls, no."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," resumed John, "she doesn't care for pearls then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She says they are insipid, monsieur."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps she is right, Cecily, but in that case," he -said, "I shall have to think of something else. Thank -you, I am much obliged to you." He slipped a pound -note into the woman's hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, monsieur."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps," John probed delicately, "madame is not -fond of pearls because she has so many?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily was folding her pound note.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pearls do not suit madame; she never wears them. -She has none at all, monsieur, only one pearl necklace, a -wedding gift from her husband. She, however, never -wears it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John appeared to think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely, Cecily, I have seen her wearing a pearl pendant?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily shook her head again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, monsieur, never. Madame has no pearls."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, in that case, it must be emeralds or rubies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Emeralds or rubies," responded Cecily, "madame is -most fond of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three minutes later John was out of the house and -hailing a taxi. As he relapsed back into the cushions, he fell -into thought. "There is certainly," thought he, "more -in these advertisements than meets the casual eye. -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth detests pearls, she has none, never -had any—and yet advertises them for sale!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quarter of an hour later, when John stepped into -Dacent Smith's room, the elder man glanced quickly up -from his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In regard to those three advertisements of jewellery," -answered John, "inserted in the newspaper by -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, I should be glad, sir, if you would -have them decoded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith raised his eyebrows slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John narrated what had occurred at his private -interview with Cecily, and Dacent Smith was instantly of the -opinion that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's harmless -advertisements were a matter for closer scrutiny. In the first -place, he telephoned to his department and ordered that -inquiry should be instituted at the newspaper office as to -any earlier advertisements which may have been inserted -in the paper by Mrs. Monmouth. If the three advertisements -were a code message the intelligence decoding -department would find its task vastly more easy if a -considerable batch of advertisements in the same code -were submitted. A brief code message, as John was now -well aware, is always difficult to read. The longer the -message, the easier is it to decipher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The department's search at the newspaper office -resulted in the finding of no less than sixteen earlier -advertisements inserted by Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. In -each case, only a box number was given, therefore the -lady's identity never became public.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It looks as if you are on the right track, Treves," -said Dacent Smith, when this information was conveyed -to him on the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later Dacent Smith, again at the -telephone, took down the decoded first advertisement, -the one wherein Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had advertised -a pearl pendant for sale. John's chief wrote it out -carefully, and handed the slip across to the younger man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is your advertisement, Treves," he exclaimed. -There was a grave ring in his voice. John took the slip -of paper and read:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Note of Warning.—New standard eight thousand ton -ship purposely advertised by shipping authorities here as -fitting out at —— is a 'Q' ship, armed with six-inch guns, -torpedo tubes are being fitted. Further news in next -message."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked up from the pencilled lines. He saw in a -flash the exact purport of the message. Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth in pretending to advertise a pearl pendant -was in reality sending a message to Germany to the effect -that a certain vessel then building was a decoy ship, one -of the famous vessels which had done so much to break -the back of the submarine peril. John could easily -realise how swiftly that news would reach Germany. -Automatically the paper would reach Holland within -two days. Any neutral ship might carry copies, and -Berlin's Naval Department would possess the information -a few minutes after the daily paper containing -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's advertisement reached Dutch soil. -Every German spy in England who read the newspaper -would receive the news on the morning of its insertion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think for cunning that beats everything," said -John, handing back the paper to Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They have been preparing this sort of thing for -years," answered Dacent Smith. "But I am willing to -admit that Mrs. Monmouth has this time stolen -something of a march on us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Every one of her advertisements is being decoded, -however, and every one, I have no doubt, will convey -information of this nature. On the other hand," he said, -"we have not yet learnt in what manner she -communicated with the submarine that sunk the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>, -That must have been a much quicker communication. I -shall leave it to you, Treves," he said quietly, "to find -out what that method is. You will have to learn much -more of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth than we know already. -The fight is quickening between us. And the big fight -which von Kuhne is planning in the Isle of Wight is not -quite so indefinite to us as it was. The date at least is in -our possession. And by then," he went on, "all the -carrion will have wended their way there, even our friend, -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, will be there by then." John -looked at him in sudden surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought she was seldom out of London, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the fact," answered Dacent Smith; "it is -also the fact, however, that from the twenty-fourth of this -month she has engaged rooms at a select boarding house -in Freshwater. She is going to Freshwater," he added -ironically, "to recuperate after an arduous London -season!" He looked meaningly at John. John understood -the significance of that look. The carrion were -gathering. By the twenty-eighth all von Kuhne's active -forces would be drawn to the Isle of Wight. Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, in taking rooms at Freshwater, was acquiring -a residence in close proximity to Heatherpoint Fort. -John wondered what her particular manoeuvre was to be. -He put that question to Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall know all in good time, Treves," answered -his chief. "You yourself will be in the Isle of Wight by -then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later John bade good night to Dacent -Smith. Being free for that evening, he took the tube to -Camden Town. Here, at Bowles Avenue, in the quiet -little street, he knocked once again at the door of Elaine's -residence. He had not visited Elaine for nearly a week, -and he knew that for some days to come he would be -deeply occupied with Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, so he -wished to make the most of the present opportunity. -Twice during the past week Elaine had written him short -notes asking him when he could come to visit her. There -had been nothing in the notes to convey the idea that she -wished him urgently to come. He was surprised, therefore, -when Elaine, in answer to his knock, drew open the -door and recognised him with an expression of infinite -relief in her grey eyes. She was dressed prettily, quietly -and inexpensively as usual. John, comparing her -appearance with the brilliant beauty of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, realised that Elaine's attraction lay just as much -in her fine and upright character, in her intense feminine -gentleness and loyalty, as in her beauty itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took John's hand in hers, drew him into the little -passage, and quickly shut the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she whispered, resting her hand on his -shoulder, and looking up into his face, "I am so very glad -you have come!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She drew his face down to hers and kissed him as she -had never kissed him before. There was something that -was almost passionately fervent in her embrace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been so afraid for you, Bernard," she murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John released himself. He felt the extreme -awkwardness of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What made you afraid, Elaine?" He thought at -first that an over-vivid imagination had been running -away with her, that some feminine mood had made her -fear for him. Then he remembered her beliefs as to his -character. The man she believed him to be was a -weakling with will undermined by drugs, a nervous, -overstrung neurasthenic; capable of drifting into all sorts of -trouble and embarrassments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine led him into the little parlour, lit the gas and -drew down the blind. John noticed again that something -troubled her mind. She appeared to look at him strangely -and thoughtfully. And, for an instant, for a fleeting -space of time, he feared that she had penetrated the -secret of his identity. If this was the case, all his castles -in the air would in a minute come toppling about his ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you looking at me so anxiously, Elaine?" -he asked, assuming a casual tone of voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is because of Captain Cherriton, Bernard; he has -been here to-day, and has been asking questions about you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What sort of questions?" John asked quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He asked me if you had been at Heatherpoint Fort -lately. He himself has been down at the Isle of Wight -and he appears to have found out something about you -that disturbs him terribly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John made the best effort he could to play his difficult -part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Elaine?" he questioned, "did Captain Cherriton -tell you the particular cause of his disturbance?" He -was smiling slightly as he spoke, treating the matter -airily. Nevertheless, inwardly he was deeply perturbed. -If Cherriton suspected him, and communicated his -suspicions to Voules and his confederates, John knew -that the position for himself would be one of infinite peril. -He had experienced one fortuitous escape from discovery -owing to the interception of "Crumbs's" letter to -Voules, but he could hardly hope that fortune would -again favour him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He questioned Elaine closely, and learned that -Cherriton had definitely heard of his presence at -Heatherpoint Fort at a time when he was supposed to be working -in the interest of Voules. This knowledge, John knew, -would confirm all Cherriton's suspicions the minute it -was discovered that "Crumbs" had been trapped and -had vanished from the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, it was not in John's nature to meet trouble -half-way, and for the present he was happy to be in -Elaine's radiant company. Elaine, for her part, had -much to say to him; in the first place, she detailed all -that had occurred in an interview she had had with -Dacent Smith. The great man had treated her with -marked courtesy, and had, without revealing John's true -identity, enlisted her services in much the same manner -as Mrs. Beecher Monmouth acted for his adversaries, -Voules, Cherriton, Manwitz, and company. Elaine had -undertaken the work in the idea that she could thus -protect from danger the man she loved, whose name -she believed she bore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John listened to her narrative with the deepest interest, -and gradually the wonderful subtlety of Dacent Smith -made itself manifest. The great man had promised to -relieve him of his awkward predicament in regard to -Elaine, and the manner in which he had accomplished -his promise was simplicity itself. Elaine was to -permit—within limits—the advances of Cherriton, and was to -pretend to keep her "husband" at a distance! The -neatness of this plan filled John with admiration. He felt -instantly much freer with Elaine. The delicate moment -when she had offered to resume marital relations with -him would not immediately occur again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some minutes after Elaine had ceased speaking -John held silence—a doubt had come to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine," he said, earnestly, "Captain Cherriton is far -more dangerous, perhaps, than you know." He rose, -and, pacing back and fore, with an anxious face, warned -her that the man was one who would stop at nothing to -attain his ends. Elaine listened patiently; then, on -a sudden, quick impulse, flung her arms about his neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she whispered, "don't you know I love -you, my darling? All those minutes that you have been -pacing up and down there in raging jealousy——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jealousy!" echoed John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was jealousy, Bernard," she smiled, happy in the -possession of his love. "All the time I have been -adoring you and loving you more and more. Bernard," -she whispered, "I am to pretend not to care. But you -will know in your heart, won't you, that I am yours -always?" She drew her face away from his and looked -deep into his eyes. "You know that, dearest?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it," said John, looking back at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you love me as I love you?" questioned she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had never seen her so beautiful as in that moment, -with her face upturned to his, her cheeks flushed, and her -eyes offering him her love. He was standing in another -man's shoes, and at that moment those shoes pinched -him to the point of anguish. For a fleeting moment he -was tempted to fling all prudence to the winds and confess -everything. Then the recollection that she was a married -woman smote him like a blow. Whatever happened, she -could never be his. Very gently and tenderly he held her -from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't doubt me, Elaine," he said, in a low voice. -"Nevertheless, I think Dacent Smith is right; you ought -to pretend not to care for me, for just a little -while—anyway, until the great contest that is now beginning -between our department and Cherriton and his -confederates is at an end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led her back to her chair, lit a cigarette, and made -an effort to give a humorous description of his life during -the past few weeks. He told her of Sinclair, of "Crumbs," -of his adventure and his visit to Voules; everything, in -fact, except his real identity and his arrest in mistake for -Bernard Treves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As his narrative unfolded, Elaine's eyes widened in -amazement and admiration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had no idea you were so splendid, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I am not splendid. I am not telling you that I -am splendid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course you are not, you silly boy; you are trying -to make out you are nothing at all. But I shouldn't love -you as I do if I couldn't read between the lines. Oh, -Bernard, what an idiot I have been about you. I used -to think——" she paused and looked away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You used to think awful things of me," continued -John, "that I took drugs, that I consumed whisky by -the half-bottle, that I was a brute both to you and to my -old father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Elaine slowly. "I used to think I——" Then -suddenly, and with the inconsequence of woman, -she broke off and covered her face with her hands. She -was crying softly and steadily. It was not John's -business to comfort her. The only man who had the -right to do that was the drink-sodden neurotic, who was -still a prisoner in the nursing home. Nevertheless, in less -than a minute John was kneeling before her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, Elaine?" he asked in passionate anxiety. -She looked at him with eyes bright with tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the past, Bernard; I can't understand it. -Those days, long ago, lie like a pain in my heart, always. -You have grown so different. It is cowardly and mean -of me to think of it, but I love you, Bernard, and I -cannot bear to think there was a time when you were not -as now." She paused for a moment, and a shadow, a -twinge of agony crossed her face. She looked at John -with affrighted eyes, then spoke in a low voice. "That -night when you struck me, Bernard!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt the blood quicken in his pulses. Some time -in the past Bernard Treves had struck her. How and -under what circumstances he could not guess. He turned -away his head, so that the sudden rage which blazed in -his eyes should not be visible to her. For a moment he -was silent, then collecting his senses, he said quietly, and -still without looking at her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine, I swear that if in the past I ever raised my -hand to you, ever was cur enough to strike you, then I -know nothing of it. I have no memory of such a thing," -he went on, speaking the truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell myself that, in those early days, you were not -yourself," conceded Elaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want never to recall those days," said John. "If -I ever acted as you say, I must have been mad." He -suddenly turned towards her. And all his passionate -desire to protect her, the deep love he had grown to feel -for her seemed in that moment to animate his face. -"Elaine," he said, "promise me you'll forget it, and -never think of it again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never again," answered she. She slid her arms -about his neck and drew him towards her. For a minute -he forgot his compact with himself. But presently his -self-possession returned to him. He fell back a pace, -and, lifting her hand, kissed her fingers, and once again -assumed the light conversational tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are comrades now, Elaine," said he, "both working -against Voules and his myrmidons." He turned and -looked at the little clock on Elaine's mantelshelf. -"Hallo!" he exclaimed, "I must be off; I am on duty -to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt that it was safer to go, and five minutes later he -was at the door of the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember, Elaine," he said, looking down at her in -the dim little passage, "any time you want me, if -Cherriton offends you in any way, ring me up at the -Golden Pavilion Hotel."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxiii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One evening, a week later, when darkness had fallen, -John found himself in Grosvenor Place, pacing -unobtrusively in the shadow of the russet-brown brick wall -which surrounds the royal garden of Buckingham Palace. -He was watching a taxi which was waiting before the -broad door of Mr. Beecher Monmouth's residence. Some -minutes passed before John, from his discreet -vantage ground, observed Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -herself, a vague, befurred, silk-clad figure in the distance, -descend from her house and enter the vehicle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lady's taxi sped away, and John lifted his attention -from the door of the house to the first floor. Here a -chink of light from two windows showed him that -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's maid, having attired her mistress -for the evening, was still busy, either in the bedroom or -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's boudoir.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When Mademoiselle Cecily puts out the light and goes -downstairs, I'll make a dash for it," thought John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a quarter of an hour after that he waited patiently -in the shadow of the royal wall. Then first one light, -and then another, vanished behind the first floor curtains -of the house across the road. John gave Cecily sufficient -time to descend to the housekeeper's room, where she -usually spent the evening. At last, however, with -something of alacrity and a quickened pulse-beat, he crossed -the road. He was the veriest amateur as a burglar, but -his cause was the best in the world, and in less than a -minute he had slipped a small Yale key into the hall door. -He had possessed himself of that key from Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's handbag earlier in the evening, and he -knew she would not miss it until her return from her -dinner-party at the Savoy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The key moved noiselessly in the lock. No drama at -all accompanied his entry into the lofty, deeply-carpeted -hall. The light was dim, the hall deserted, and when -John had soundlessly closed the front door behind him, -he hurried forward and ascended the carpeted stairs, -two steps at a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the servants' quarters in the lower regions he -could hear voices faintly. No other sounds came to -him, and in less than a minute after he passed the front -door he found himself in Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -intimate boudoir. Here he cautiously closed the door -behind him, turned the key in the lock and switched on -the light. Everything was as usual, save only that on -every previous visit to that room Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -brilliantly gowned, brilliantly beautiful, and always -amiable to himself, had been his chief centre of interest. -To-night, however, it was not Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -he desired to cultivate, but that lady's belongings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was there under Dacent Smith's instructions to -search for clues which would enable John's chief of -department to check her flow of information to the -enemy. For not yet had John been able to discover in -what manner, within eight hours, she had been able to -communicate with the submarine which sank the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, standing with his back to the gold and white -boudoir door, surveyed the room with a slight sense of -bewilderment. It was difficult to know where to begin. -Nevertheless, he did begin, and during the quiet minutes -that followed he made a close search for documents in -every possible hiding-place he could discover. His care -and patience, however, met with no reward; he found -nothing of the slightest significance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John had thoroughly exhausted the possibilities -of the boudoir and had found nothing, he opened the -door which communicated from that room directly into -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's spacious bedroom. He had -never viewed this apartment before, and he was much -impressed by its gorgeous furnishings, its shining brass -twin bedsteads, its white French furniture and deep -carpet of pale grey and rose colour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having quietly locked the second door of the room -which opened into the passage, he began a rapid search, -taking care to replace everything as he found it. -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth would probably not return until -half-past nine, and he felt that if he could complete his -business quickly he would be able to slip downstairs and -out of the house before being observed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily was the only person likely to disturb him, and -he had already thought of a plan which might secure his -safety in this event. In regard to Mr. Beecher -Monmouth, John felt completely at ease about him. The -"Ogre" had, a fortnight ago, been neatly transhipped -to Ireland as a member of a Government commission -of inquiry. Dacent Smith, with the aid of the Home -Secretary, had brought this about without arousing -Monmouth's suspicions. The fact that Beecher -Monmouth adored his wife, and had desired to take her -with him, had created something of a difficulty, but -Dacent Smith had overcome this point in his habitual -neat manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; I don't think I need worry," thought John, -glancing at an expensive clock of ivory and silver which -adorned the dressing-table. "I shall be safe for another -half an hour at least."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's bed was covered with a -rich eiderdown covered in purple satin. John seated -himself upon this sumptuous covering and rubbed his -chin thoughtfully. He had been twenty minutes in the -bedroom of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, and had discovered -nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He noticed now a door, with a crystal knob, which -opened into a wardrobe, which was a small room in itself. -Here Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's numerous costumes hung -in rows. John caught a glimpse of a shelf containing a -score of pairs of boots, shoes and slippers. Beneath this -shelf was a big tin box, a black japanned box, which -immediately engaged John's attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lock was a simple one, and John had it open in a -moment. Then the disappointment that had been -growing on him intensified, for in the box was nothing -but Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's costly sables laid away -for the summer. A reek of camphor assailed his nostrils -from the folded furs. He was about to close the box, -when the idea occurred to him to run his hand down the -sides. A moment later he was glad of this impulse, -for from the bottom of the tin he drew up a small, -strong-looking cash-box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rattled the box, and was able to detect a faint -rustle from within. Carrying the dispatch case, which -was something under a foot in length, he went into the -bedroom. Once again he seated himself on the purple -eiderdown and tried all his keys. None of them fitted -the dispatch box, which was protected by an unassailable -Chubb lock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John contemplated this lock for some minutes with an -unfavourable eye, then he took out a heavy steel tool he -had brought with him. It took him less than two -minutes to wrench open the lid. Within the box, completely -filling its interior, were neatly folded and tightly -packed letters and papers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's interest quickened mightily as, opening one of -the letters, he discovered it to be in German.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The note-paper was of the flimsy description, almost -tissue paper, in fact. John, examining it closely, observed -with a certain degree of interest that the paper had been -folded very small indeed, evidently for facility in -transmission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he sat on the edge of the bed, with the open box -on his knee, and this letter in his hand, he swept -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's large and expensively furnished -room with his glance. There was a deep silence in the -room, and between the rise and the fall of the traffic -noises outside, John could hear the light ticking of the -little ivory and silver clock on the dressing-table. He -was not occupied with the silence, however, but with the -contents of the letter, which he read rapidly, eagerly, -and with swiftly augmented interest. Written purposely -small in a firm, foreign hand, the missive, which was to -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, ran, in German:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>"DARLING ALICE,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Your loving letter reached me only yesterday, and I -am hastening to answer it by the usual channels. I am -still jealous. You tell me your husband is very old, but -one of the solaces to my captivity here is the English -newspapers, which we are allowed to read, and yesterday, -in one of the picture papers, I observed Mr. Beecher -Monmouth's photograph. He is not so old as you -pretend, and though his face assures me that he will never -win your heart, yet still I am jealous. It makes me -laugh to think of you as the wife of an English politician, -a member of their stupid Parliament! I wonder if in -society you ever meet the Duke of Thule and Lord -Harrisgrove. I recall our beautiful happiness in Washington -together. You loved me then, I believe, more than you -do now.</em><span>"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The letter ended with expressions of endearment, and -was signed "Kurt von Morgen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As John read the signature his lips tightened. In -great haste he ran his eye over the handwriting of at -least a score of other letters, each one of them in the same -handwriting, that of Kurt von Morgen, a German Cuirassier -officer, a young aristocrat who had been captured on -the Western Front six months earlier. He knew that -Count Kurt von Morgen was a prisoner in the —— camp -for officers. And as he handled the flimsy sheets of -paper he wondered consumedly how the young man -had managed to convey these letters to Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A word in another letter by von Morgen caught his eye:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">I am glad you have met General von Kuhne,</em><span>" said the -writer. "</span><em class="italics">Kindly convey to him my compliments, and -tell him his nephew, who is a prisoner here, is well and -happy. His Excellency's presence in England means -much. I throb with interest to know what will happen. -But perhaps, Alice, meine herzliebste, I shall soon be -free, and shall soon see you! Preparations for my -escape are going better than ever. I have for my servant -a very intelligent fellow from the Black Forest. Do not -let your English 'Ogre' love you too much. Think of -me always and the little week when you were my wife -at Palm Beach. I kiss you behind the ear.</em><span>—KURT."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A smile crossed John's face as he finished reading this -amorous missive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here," thought he, "we get a pretty complete clue -to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's earlier history before she -came from America. It shows also where Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's affections are really centred."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had already read enough to know that these -letters must be delivered as swiftly as possible into Dacent -Smith's hands. One or two had slipped to the floor as -he scanned them hurriedly. He bent down to pick them -up, and saw very neatly written on a slip of paper the -key of the code which Mrs. Monmouth had used in -her newspaper advertisements. As Smith's department -already knew this code, the discovery was not of much -importance, but on another sheet of paper which also -lay on the rich rose and grey carpet he discovered a -second code with its accompanying key. His attention -fixed upon this with swift intensity. He had at last -made a discovery of importance, and he became suddenly -animated by the hope that his department had hit upon -the manner of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's swift -communication with the enemy. He reached out, took up -the slip of paper—and then suddenly became still. For -an instant he remained motionless, his mind working -with lightning rapidity. A sound had come to him from -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's boudoir, a soft impact of -footsteps upon the thick carpet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John could scarcely believe his ears. He had carefully -locked the door of the corridor boudoir when he entered -the room. As a further protection, he had left the key -in the lock. And now this sound! He was still on -his hands and knees, and very slowly he turned his head. -At that instant the boudoir door opened towards him, -and a man enveloped in a heavy tweed overcoat and -wearing a soft grey hat stood in the aperture. At sight -of John on his knees near the bed, the new-comer stopped -dead and stared with wide-amazed eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John leapt to his feet. Mechanically, at the same -moment the figure at the door removed his grey hat, -and the thin hair, the parchment-like face, and the thin, -sharp nose of Mr. Beecher Monmouth stood revealed. -Moved by his passionate desire to be with his wife, the -elderly politician had unexpectedly hurried from Ireland -to spend the week-end in London. Beecher Monmouth's -expression was one of simple and complete amazement. -He blinked two or three times; then, suddenly recovering -himself, drew shut the door behind him, and stood with -his back to it. His sallow face grew pale with swift -kindled hate and rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Treves," he demanded, drawing in a sharp breath, -"what are you doing here? Are you here with my -wife's knowledge?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered John frankly. "Your wife hasn't -the faintest idea that I am here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean you came to the house in her absence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt it was necessary to tell him something near -the truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you have a right to know that I came here -in her absence. I came without her knowledge—let -myself in with a key and locked the doors outside there, -so that I should not be disturbed. How you got in I -don't know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I got in through my own bedroom which is beyond -the boudoir," retorted Beecher Monmouth icily, amazed -and further enraged at his calmness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" said John. "There must have been a door -I didn't lock. Well, to get along with my explanation—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth drew away from him; mechanically -he drew off his overcoat and threw it to the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Young man," he shouted, his face suddenly turning -from white to scarlet, "what are those letters there?" His -eyes fell upon the opened cash-box lying on the bed. -He rushed to it and took it up. "What were you doing -with this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was breaking it open," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth fixed upon him bewildered and -stupefied eyes. Then he hurried across the room and -put out his hand for the bell. John, however, was too -quick for him; he leapt forward and flung his arms -powerfully about the lean, elderly figure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mustn't ring that bell," he said in a low, tense -voice. "I am here on very particular business, and -there must be no disturbance whatever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you let me go?" shouted Beecher Monmouth, -his face contorted with rage. "Let me go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," said John, stepping with his back towards -the bell. Beecher Monmouth eased his collar, which -had been disturbed. He put his hand to his thin, -neatly-ordered hair. He was breathing heavily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll drive me mad. Have you come here to rob -me, or——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then his mood suddenly changed. The one passion -of his life welled to the surface. If John was there -intending to rob him he cared little. There was one thing -only that could really strike at him deeply, and that -was his wife's love and fidelity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here," he said, suddenly pulling himself -together, "tell me that it is not an assignation; that -you are not waiting for my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked at him and was silent for a surprised -moment; then he said, quietly and solemnly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I swear I am not waiting for your wife. I am here -on far more serious business, and, as for your wife, I -neither care, nor have I ever cared, anything about her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth's eyes took on a visible expression -of relief; his gaze travelled away from John and looked -about the room. Once again his glance fell upon the -disorder of letters upon the bed. He made a step -forward and, before John could stop him, picked up one. -John saw his head jerk curiously as the first words -smote his eyes. "Liebste Alice." His gaze went to -the date of the letter. It was scarcely a fortnight old! -He read a few lines of the German missive, which he -understood, then he lifted his eyes to John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Never in his life had John seen a man alter so in a -moment as Beecher Monmouth altered in that moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know what these letters are?" he asked in -a jerking voice. "Do you understand German?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said. "I have read several of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth took out a silk handkerchief and -wiped his brow. Then he bent down and slowly gathered -a handful of the letters. But before he could read another, -John placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. He was -moved by the tragedy that was about to strike this -elderly man, who seemed so ill able to bear it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Monmouth," he said, "it is only fair that you -should know all the truth. I can see no other way out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the truth?" asked Monmouth in a dazed voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am here," John answered, "on behalf of our -Intelligence Department, to make a search of your wife's -belongings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Intelligence Department!" echoed Beecher Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," John said; "and I am afraid it will be my -duty to take away all the letters in this room. In the -meantime, however, I am prepared for you to study -them at your leisure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" asked Monmouth. "Intelligence -Department——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will learn everything from the letters, which -you can read if you wish—on condition, of course, that -you give me your word of honour as a gentleman to -destroy nothing. Also you will remain indoors, within -call, until I have communicated with my chief of -department."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth put a shaking hand over his brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said, "I suppose I understand what you -say. I feel very much bewildered."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like to read the letters?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have read one; I must face the others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will give me your word of honour to destroy -nothing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes." His voice was low, almost inaudible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, pitying his utter desolation, stepped quietly out -of the room, and, leaving the door open, seated himself -in the boudoir. He had been there perhaps three -minutes, when Beecher Monmouth looked in at him. -His expression was utterly tragic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to close the door, Mr. Treves, if you -don't mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," said John. He was something of a judge -of men; he had accepted the elder man's word, and for -ten further minutes he remained seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During that time Beecher Monmouth stood alone in -his wife's brilliantly decorated bedchamber, and strewn -about the rose-grey carpet lay the letters which meant -the end of all happiness, which for him meant -tragedy and darkness unutterable. He went down -on his knees, and, with shaking hands, gathered up -the strewn sheets. Then, dropping into a low chair near -the dressing-table, he read, one after another, Kurt von -Morgen's amorous letters to his wife. And in reading he -pieced together, bit by bit, his wife's dark past. For -the first time her utter shamelessness became known to -him. And then, gradually, through the tragedy of his -own wrecked life, he saw something that filled him with -horror. He learnt, bit by bit, that his wife was not -only faithless to him, but was faithless to his country -as well. The woman he had adored and had sold his -happiness to was a traitor—either that, or a spy in the -enemy's pay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As these things swept over him in great waves he clasped -his hands to his head and swayed back and forth in a very -agony of horrified shame. Presently, like a man in a -dream, he rose and walked unsteadily across the floor. -Quite neatly, and with a sort of mechanical carefulness, -he had replaced all the letters and documents back in the -box, and now, carrying the box under his arm, he went -unsteadily over the carpet. He drew open a drawer of -the little cabinet near his bed, and took out a beautiful -plated ivory-handled Colt pistol. Then he took in a deep -breath, assured himself that the pistol was loaded and -clicked it shut again. He moistened his lips with his -tongue, looked at the weapon for a moment with dazed -eyes, and slipped it into his pocket. This done, he turned, -and with steps that were steady and resolute, crossed -the room and drew open the door of the boudoir.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxiv"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was a strange light in Beecher Monmouth's eyes -as he stepped into the outer apartment. He was a man -who irrevocably and finally had made up his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Treves," he said, "I hand these into your care. -You have discharged your duty very well indeed. I -think the letters will be of great service to your -department." He uttered the words tonelessly and his manner -puzzled John, who took the box, and then observed that -Monmouth's hand was outstretched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You carried out your duty honourably and well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their hands touched and John noticed how icy cold -were the other's fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope, sir," he said, in a sudden rush of pity for -the utterly broken and deluded husband, "I hope you -will forgive my seeming harshness of a few minutes ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, certainly," said Beecher Monmouth dully. -He appeared grateful that John had shaken him by the -hand. "You can tell your chief that I feel no animosity -and that I shall keep my promise not to leave this -house. Whenever you return you will find me here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On behalf of the department I think I can say," -remarked John, "that you will suffer as little -inconvenience as possible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Beecher Monmouth. "This discovery -is for me, as you can well understand, a tragic -one." He paused a moment. "In any case," he -added, "you will find me in my wife's room when you -return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John took the japanned box and bowed slightly. He -was quite sure that Beecher Monmouth would make no -attempt to escape. He was also quite sure in his own -mind that no charge would be brought against him. -The case was clearly one of a duped and shamelessly -deluded husband who had unwittingly aided his country's -enemies. For a moment the elder man appeared to -hesitate on the point of making some further communication, -then, turning slowly on his heel, re-entered his wife's -room and shut the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth's unfortunate advent had delayed -John longer in the house than caution allowed. He -made haste now to repair the tactical disadvantage, and -the moment the door closed upon the elder man he -emptied the letters from the box into his overcoat, hurried -out of the room and down the great staircase.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In two minutes he reached the front door, which he -drew open upon the darkness of the night. He inhaled -a deep breath of relief. His task had been accomplished; -in another moment——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he stopped and stood stock still upon the -top-most step—exactly opposite him a taxi had drawn to a -halt. A light laugh floated up to him, and Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, shimmering in silk and jewels, alighted -briskly! She was the last person in the world John at -that moment desired to see, still if she had been alone -John believed that he could have still escaped unobserved. -She was not alone, however. With her were two men in -evening clothes, and as the little party of three crossed -the pavement John made out that the heavily-built, -thick-necked figure who had helped her to alight was -Doctor "Voules," and that the taller figure who walked -upon her left hand was Captain Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton's keen eyes had recognised John in an instant, -and almost simultaneously Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -uttered an exclamation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Mr. Treves!" She ran lightly up the steps, -holding out her hand in greeting. "I had no idea you -were coming to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor had I," said John. "I came upon the impulse -of the moment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you knew I should be out," protested Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is true," John admitted; "but as you were not -going to a theatre I expected you would be back early."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was very nice of you; now you must come in -again." She laid her hand lightly on his arm and -shepherded him back to the wide hall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is the butler?" Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, -sweeping the empty hall with her eyes, turned in surprise -upon John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," said John; "I think he's downstairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But surely some one was here to let you out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton and his Excellency von Kuhne had both -entered the hall. His Excellency pushed shut the big -door, and as John heard the latch click a curious sensation -of finality seized him. On several occasions in past -months he had been in tight situations. He had been -in an awkward position, for instance, half an hour earlier, -with Beecher Monmouth. The situation, however, which -now held him in its grip was in point of danger beyond -anything he had yet experienced. He knew that -coolness and sang-froid and daring were the only weapons -with which he could fight against the three national -and ruthless enemies who stood about him in the dimly -lit hall. He had shaken hands with Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, and, avoiding a direct answer to her last question, -he now turned to von Kuhne and held out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, doctor?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very well," answered his Excellency in his thick -voice. He looked steadily into John's eyes. Manton -could read nothing in his expression, and he gave his -attention to Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a long time since we met, Cherriton!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton bowed. He made no effort to shake hands; -nevertheless his manner was not openly hostile, rather -was it sharply and keenly watchful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite a long time," he answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, looking again into the captain's cold, light blue -eyes, his pale shaven face with its bony contours, -his cruelly-turned mouth, thought him even more -unpleasant than he had formerly believed. He was willing -to grant, however, that Cherriton carried himself with an -air, that he was a powerful, big-boned, tall, well-set-up -fellow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His own eyes and Cherriton's remained engaged for the -fraction of a second, then Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -voice broke the tension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, come," she exclaimed, "we mustn't stand in -the hall. I'll ring for Duckett to bring us something -upstairs, and in the meantime you shall each have a -cigarette in my boudoir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't like cigarettes!" said von Kuhne curtly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you shall smoke one of your black cigars," -concluded Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, flashing at him one -of her brilliant smiles. She rang the bell, and when the -butler appeared, commanded him to bring wine and -glasses upstairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth began to run up the wide -carpeted staircase. John noticed that she wore grey -shoes with scarlet heels, and that her stockings were of -dark red silk to match her dress. She ascended half a -dozen steps, then turned, noticing that John had begun -to frame an excuse. He wanted to get away before she -reached her boudoir, before she could enter her bedroom -where her husband awaited her. The meeting between -these two which was imminent was not one which John -wished to witness. He waved a farewell hand, uttered -conventional apologies and made to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, however, would hear nothing -of it. She ran down the stairs, took him by the arm, -shook a finger in his face, called him a "bad, cruel boy," -and led him upstairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton and von Kuhne closed in behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boudoir was empty when Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -entered and switched on the lights. In a swift survey -of the apartment John noticed the rifled dispatch-box -on a gilt-legged chair where he had left it. Very swiftly -and dexterously he whipped off his light overcoat and -threw it over the box, hiding it from view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, who wore extensive </span><em class="italics">décolletée</em><span>, -with a small tiara glimmering in her perfectly arranged -dark tresses, permitted John to relieve her of an opera -cloak of grey silk brocade. She stood for a minute -displaying herself in perfect consciousness of her striking -beauty. Her arms and shoulders, perfectly modelled, -were white as marble. There was a challenging light in -her brilliant eyes as they sought John's. She was one -of those women who look best at night, a flower that -bloomed best in artificial light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's mind, since their entrance into the room, had -not, however, been occupied either with her beauty or -his own personal danger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was thinking only of a sound he had heard some -minutes earlier, at the moment he had drawn open the -front door. The sound, like a distant crack of a whip, -had reached him from the interior of the house. Only -now did that sound gather to itself significance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sudden doubts assailed John. In that room behind -the closed door Beecher Monmouth had seen his own -doting attempts at love mocked and laughed at; he had -read the passionate letters of her real lover, Kurt von -Morgen. She had betrayed not only her husband but -her husband's country.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What if Beecher Monmouth strode in among them? -At any moment the door of that silent room might fly -open.... John could conceive Monmouth in a frenzy, -rushing into the room and putting his lean hands about -that white, bejewelled throat. The situation tingled -with terrible possibilities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In those tense and throbbing moments John felt a -kinship between himself and the deluded man beyond the -closed door of the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton, he was certain, suspected him, and would -take the first opportunity to cross-examine him as to his -visit to Heatherpoint Fort. Nevertheless, he was -determined to escape from that house with Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's incriminating letters, and with the newly-found -code. He was not afraid of Cherriton; he feared neither -the tall German's subtlety of wit, nor his strength of arm. -His sole feeling indeed towards this unpleasant enemy -was one of infinite antagonism. He knew the time was -bound to come, possibly at any minute, when he and -Cherriton would enter upon open conflict.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The butler came into the room bearing a large silver -tray, decanters and glasses. General von Kuhne lit one -of his big black cigars, and seating himself, drank a glass -of champagne. The butler went out of the room and -closed the door noiselessly behind him. John and -Cherriton each accepted from Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -hands a whisky-and-soda. John felt Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's eyes steadily upon him. A faint shadow of -doubt seemed to flit across her face and then vanish. -With an almost imperceptible movement of her head she -beckoned him towards her, and seizing a moment when -Cherriton and von Kuhne were in conversation, she said -to him in a whisper:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you come to-night, when you knew I should -be out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had been expecting the question, and was prepared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew you would be out," he said, looking deep into -her eyes; "but I expected you'd come in again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, you enigmatical boy?" Then -feeling that she had read his mind, she added: "Do you -mean—you came because my husband was away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John smiled at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you think that an excellent reason for coming?" -he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This struck her as an extremely amusing remark. As -always she was conscious of, and confident in, the potency -of her beauty. She laughed and tapped him on the -shoulder with her fan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe you love me," she uttered almost -soundlessly, shaping the words with her lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you?" said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did Cecily let you in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," admitted John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment a knock fell upon the door of the room, -and in answer to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's summons, -Cecily herself entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, madame," she said, "but the -corridor door of your room is locked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Locked, Cecily?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth saw no significance in the fact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case, Cecily," she said, "you may come -through this way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, madame." Cecily, in her black dress, -white cap and apron, and high-heeled shoes, crossed the -carpet. She reached the second door of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's bedroom and opened it. Nobody but John -was watching her. As the maid pushed open the door -she gave a violent start, stood stock still, then uttered a -loud and terrified scream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madame! Madame!" she called, turning a frantic -face and wide-staring eyes at her mistress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" cried Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, springing -swiftly to her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The four of them were now standing staring blankly -at Cecily, who was leaning against the door-frame -covering her eyes with one hand and waving an arm -frantically towards the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Monmouth hurried towards her, but it was John -who first succeeded in reaching the door. From the -threshold he looked into the room. All the softly-shaded -golden lights were full on. And half lying, half sitting -on the bed he saw the figure of Beecher Monmouth. The -inert form was reclining upon its side on the rich purple -counterpane. One arm hung over the edge of the bed -towards the floor. On the floor itself lay the politician's -ivory and electro-plated pistol, one barrel of which had -been discharged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John rushed into the room and looked close into the -ashen grey face, but even before he reached the bedside, -the very stillness of the prone figure had told him the -truth.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The knowledge that had come upon Beecher Monmouth -that night had marked the end. And with a courage -for which few would have given him credit, considering -his weakness, he had taken arms against a sea of troubles. -His political life, his ambition, his hopes, the love that he -had lavished, had all vanished in a flash. Kurt von -Morgen's letters had told him everything, had revealed -a sink of iniquity and duplicity such as he had never -thought possible. The blow had been too heavy for him -to bear. A younger man might have sought relief in -vengeance upon the woman who had betrayed him, but -he was not of that spirit. He could think of one way -only, one act only which could extricate him from his -tragic position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Innocently for months and years he had been a traitor -to his country. Unwittingly he had been supplying to -the scheming, brilliant woman whom he adored, all the -knowledge that came to him in virtue of his position in -Parliament. In doing this he had himself become a -criminal. No court of law could, or would, punish him. -That he knew. But with all his weaknesses he was a loyal -Englishman, and in thinking of the tragedy that had been -wrought by his doting folly, he resolved to act manfully -at the last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monmouth left no word, no scrap of writing, no murmur -of complaint against the woman who had betrayed him, -and as John looked into the waxen face that looked old, -even beyond its years, he felt for the dead man a genuine -and deep sense of pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After all," thought he, "he has chosen the only way -out!" He looked up from the face of the dead man, and -saw Cherriton's eyes brooding upon him narrowly. And -all through the ensuing excitement he could feel -Cherriton's eyes following him keenly, spying upon every -movement he made. As the minutes passed John realised that -the Captain not only suspected him of playing a double -game in regard to Heatherpoint Fort, but he suspected -him also of the murder of Beecher Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John wondered what would happen when the ravished -dispatch-box was discovered. And the thought came -to him that, despite the tragedy that had occurred, -Beecher Monmouth's return had been a useful -circumstance for himself and his department. For when -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth found that her lover's letters and the -code had disappeared she would instantly jump to the -conclusion that her husband had discovered them. Having -made this discovery, his despair at her duplicity would -account for his self-destruction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Soon after the finding of the body the servants were -summoned from below, but no one had heard the fatal -shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Von Kuhne, who was disturbed and annoyed, showed -an urgent desire to take himself off. He was gone, -accompanied by Cherriton, by the time the police appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the police were in full possession of the situation -John himself took leave of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. -She was standing in her boudoir, her face deathly white, -her usually scarlet lips bluish in hue. John noticed that -her hand, as she touched his, was ice-cold. His feelings -were of intense detestation towards her, and he found it -difficult to be even conventionally polite. As to offering -her words of comfort or condolence, that would have -been the merest mockery. He was amazed, in bidding -her good-bye, to find that there were tears in her eyes. -She was an astounding woman. Beecher Monmouth -had destroyed himself solely because of her unutterable -depths of treachery. She had never loved him; she had -incessantly betrayed and duped him, and yet she could -still shed tears for him!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John went away pondering upon the mystery of the -eternal feminine.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxv"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John's work of that night was commended highly by -Dacent Smith. For his discovery of the japanned box -had put the department in possession of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's code and a score of letters evidently part -of a secret correspondence conducted with a camp for -officers, and with Kurt von Morgen, whose "plans for -escape were progressing nicely"!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The great man commended this achievement. But, -like John, he felt pity for Beecher Monmouth, who had -fallen so easy and gullible a victim to his wife's treachery. -In regard to Cherriton's suspicions of John he took a -serious view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Treves," he said, leaning back in his chair, -"we shall have to remove Cherriton from the scene. He -appears, from what you tell me, not to have confided his -suspicions of you either to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth or to -von Kuhne. It is unfortunate that he chanced to be -appointed by von Kuhne to watch Heatherpoint. But -I don't think we can blame Lieutenant Parkson for letting -out the fact that you were for a brief period attached -to that fort. Nevertheless the position is one that -must be handled swiftly and effectively."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He suddenly smiled at John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have done very well up to now, Treves," he said. -"But I should not like your career to be suddenly cut -short when there are big things ahead. We have safely -got rid of Lady Rachel Marvin in Pitt Lunan Hydro, -where she can enjoy the company of other fools of her -own sort, and will be unable to endanger any more of -our forces by loose gossip." He paused, then went on: -"The virtual suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act was -a god-send to us in the handling of dangerous social fools -like Lady Rachel. We could do still more than we do at -present, Treves, if every one who knew of suspicious -persons or suspicious gossip would only let us know. If -members of the public would take the trouble to write a -letter to their favourite newspaper the information would -always reach us, and would enable us to keep watch on a -good many suspicious characters who would otherwise -escape us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The trouble is," said John, "the members of the -public do not understand either the power of the German -spy system in this country or the wideness of its extent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," nodded his chief. "Who, for instance, -would suspect Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, the beautiful -and wealthy wife of a well-known member of Parliament? -But, to my mind, persons like Lady Rachel -Marvin are just as dangerous to us as the actual German -spies who pick up their information."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John went away from Dacent Smith's bachelor abode -that night full of intense curiosity as to what -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth would do in the immediate future. -If, however, he thought that the death of her husband -would check her activities he was speedily disillusioned. -For immediately after the funeral of the late politician, -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, looking beautiful in her widow's -weeds, departed for the Isle of Wight. The funeral of -Beecher Monmouth had been an impressive public affair, -and there had been much commiseration for the tragically -bereaved young widow. It was only natural, therefore, -that after so terrible a shock she should wish to withdraw -herself from the public gaze. Rooms were engaged at -an hotel at Newport, and Mrs. Monmouth, in deepest -widow's weeds, made the journey accompanied by her -maid Cecily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She arrived at Newport on the twenty-fourth of the -month, and the proprietor of the hotel, who knew of her -bereavement, received her with a grave and discreet -cordiality. He himself showed her to the parlour which -had been allotted to her, and assured her that he would -do all that was in his power to make her stay as quiet -and reposeful as he possibly could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth thanked him cordially. That -night she dined in the retirement of her little parlour, -but on the following evening it was discovered that her -chimney smoked a little. She therefore decided to take -her dinner in the public dining-room. As the chimney -in her sitting-room had never smoked before, the -proprietor of the hotel was a little puzzled. Nevertheless he -prepared for her a table in a quiet corner of the dining-room -downstairs. Here, accompanied by Cecily, her -confidential maid, who placed her chair for her and then -departed, the newly-bereaved widow took her meal. -The only other diners in the room were four young officers, -who sat at a table in an opposite corner. Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, in her simple and costly black dress, -immediately engaged their attention. They respected her -sorrow, however, and, despite the evident admiration of -one of them, who thought her possessed of the most -beautiful profile he had ever seen, Mrs. Monmouth did -not encounter from the young men a single glance. When -dinner was at an end she rose gracefully, and, carrying her -novel, went upstairs to her apartments. When the door -had closed upon her the four young officers became -animated in a surprising manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By gad!" exclaimed one, "she's a dashed fine-looking -woman, and young, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A dashed sight too young for Beecher Monmouth, I -should think," remarked another. "What a rotten thing -to happen to her. I wonder what made him shoot -himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They speculated upon Mrs. Beecher Monmouth and -her tragedy for some minutes, then rose to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had reached -her sitting-room. Strange to say, the fire no longer -smoked. She turned swiftly to the sallow-skinned -Cecily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cecily!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go downstairs and find out which of those young -officers was Lieutenant Parkson, of Heatherpoint Fort. -You know how to find out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily looked at her knowingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Cecily returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lieutenant Parkson, madame, was the one with the -black hair and the little black moustache who sat facing -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Cecily," said Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. -"Did you discover when he was coming again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He and his friends have engaged the same table for -to-morrow night, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you." Mrs. Beecher Monmouth lit one of her -Russian cigarettes, flung the match into the fire, and, -relapsing into a chair at the hearth, began to smoke -quietly. "I shall dine downstairs at the same time -to-morrow, Cecily," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next night the four young men were already seated -at their table when Mrs. Beecher Monmouth entered the -old-fashioned dining-room, followed by Cecily. This -time Lieutenant Parkson caught the full view of -Mrs. Monmouth's beauty for the first time. Her fine eyes -met his, lingered for a moment, then turned away. After -that the young man watched her during the entire meal. -He watched her as she moved away. She carried herself -superbly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some minutes, unheeding his companions' -conversation, Parkson looked at the vacant place she had -occupied. He remained absorbed in thought until -something gleaming caught his eye on the carpet, within -a yard of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's vacated chair. -Parkson saw this object, left his seat, and discovered it to -be a small gold cigarette-case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took it up quickly and examined it with a good -deal of interest. On the gold surface of the case the -letters "A.B.M." were outlined in small rubies. For -a minute the young man hesitated, holding the article in -his hand; then suddenly he made up his mind what to do. -He determined to seize advantage by the forelock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Excusing himself to his friends, Parkson hurried out -of the room. He had determined upon a course which -would enable him to make her acquaintance. The single -glance Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had rested upon him -when entering the room gave him courage. At the door -of No. 9, which was her sitting-room, he knocked quietly. -A low voice bade him come in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Parkson, embarrassed despite his boldness, -stepped into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon for intruding upon you, but I -think you dropped this cigarette-case in the dining-room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth looked at him, then at the -case, and came quickly to her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," she exclaimed. She accepted it from his -fingers and smiled at him, looking steadily into his eyes. -"I am so grateful to you," she said. "I cannot," she -lied, "tell how I came to drop it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson bowed, and was moving towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," he murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know, the servants," went on Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, "are sometimes so dishonest in these hotels."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so," answered Parkson clumsily. Then he -noticed that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had opened the -cigarette-case and was holding it towards him. There -were four buff-coloured cigarettes in its interior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you give me the pleasure of accepting one of -them? I am afraid it is the only reward you will permit -me to offer you, Mr.——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She paused, looking questioningly at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Parkson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth uttered a pleased exclamation; -her face wreathed itself in smiles. For a devastated -widow she looked at that moment particularly -light-hearted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how very nice that is. Then you must know my -cousin, Captain Cherriton?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Parkson; "I've met him a number of -times here." His tone conveyed to her swift intelligence -the fact that Captain Cherriton was not high in his -favour. She looked at him seriously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid he was not the best of company for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment Cecily, who had been conveniently -absent from the room, entered with coffee upon the tray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will please bring another cup, Cecily. I am sure -Captain Parkson——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lieutenant Parkson," corrected the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lieutenant Parkson will join me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later Lieutenant Parkson was comfortably -seated in a chair on the opposite side of the hearth. -He was consuming one of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -buff-coloured cigarettes, and was very much at home -drinking some of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's after-dinner -coffee. After the first few minutes he gathered together -his natural self-possession. He was generally at home -where women were concerned, and he was intensely -susceptible to feminine beauty. At that particular -moment he was flattering himself that he was making -a good impression upon this rich and beautiful young -widow. It occurred to him that she was, in the circumstances, -unduly cheerful, but he attributed this to his own -good company. The fact that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -had cunningly put him in this frame of mind was, of -course, unknown to him. His own social position was -quite a modest one, and this </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span> with a woman -of Mrs. Monmouth's importance and aristocratic -connections flattered his vanity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, Mr. Parkson, I don't look upon you -as a stranger in the least. You are a friend of my -reckless cousin, and, therefore, we are in a sense mutually -acquainted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very nice of you to say so," acknowledged -Parkson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her amiable presence he began to grow expansive, -until suddenly Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, as it were, -appeared to recollect her tragic widowhood. She -dismissed him very neatly, but before he went away they -shook hands, and she thanked him again. He could -feel her fingers warm, vibrant, and vital in his. Her -brilliant eyes held his for a moment; then she permitted -him to depart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily came into the room when he had gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can take away the cups, Cecily," said Mrs. -Beecher Monmouth, "and to-morrow night, in addition -to coffee, you will provide whisky and liqueurs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, madam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glasses for two," announced Mrs. Beecher Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within four days of her arrival at her hotel -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had completely enchained the -susceptible young officer. Parkson was amazed at his -own success, yet perhaps not so much amazed after all. -He began to see himself as a newly fledged Don Juan, a -dog, a daring and romantic fascinator of women.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxvi"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXVI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One afternoon, when Colonel Hobin's permission had -been obtained, Parkson invited Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -to tea at Heatherpoint Fort. It was only occasionally -that ladies were allowed to enter the fort gates. -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, however, was a well-known woman, -and her recent sorrow won for her every one's -commiseration. In sending her the permit to enter the -fort—a slip of yellow paper, rubber stamped, and with Colonel -Hobin's signature scrawled at the foot—Parkson -apologised for the roughness of the fare he would be able -to offer her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had been deftly angling for -an invitation to the fort from the moment of her -arrival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Upon the next afternoon she attired herself with -special care, and, when ready, made the eleven miles -journey to Heatherpoint in a hired car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled graciously at the first sentry to halt her -vehicle at the foot of the wide road leading to the fort -gate. At the tall iron gates themselves, which clanked -noisily open when her pass had been inspected by the -guard, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was conscious of a slight -tremor. The sensation of being behind closed gates—for -the gates clanked immediately shut upon her entrance—filled -her with a sudden throb of fear. The abrupt -movements, the expressionless faces of the guard also -disturbed her. She had ventured a great deal in her -work on behalf of the German secret service, but this -was the first occasion where she had, as it were, stepped -deliberately into the jaws of the lion. Her quick eyes -took in all her surroundings; the cliff rose abruptly to -her left; the muzzle of a six-inch gun peering out over -the Solent was visible twenty yards away upon her right. -A sergeant, still holding her pass in his hand, looked at her -inquiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wish to see Lieutenant Parkson?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, please." Her heart was still beating swiftly. -She had not foreseen that the gates would be clanged -ruthlessly shut behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sergeant turned on his heel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you come this way, madame?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He began to ascend steep ladder-like steps laid against -the face of the cliff. Mrs. Beecher Monmouth followed -the grim khaki-clad figure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, not quite so fast," she entreated, and paused -for breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three hundred feet below her, looking almost straight -down, she could see the blue waters of the Solent shining -in the sunlight. Tiny white-crested waves fell languidly -into the little bay, with its jutting pier that before the -war had been thronged with holiday-makers, but which -was now empty and deserted. Beyond the pier, three -miles away, on the mainland promontory the tower of the -Ponsonby Lighthouse gleamed beautiful and white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a lovely view, sergeant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But in winter it must be very cold up here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was standing eight or ten steps above her, eyeing -a tangle of barbed wire which covered a green hill slope, -with indifferent eyes. He did not approve of visitors to -the fort, especially ladies. What did ladies want -climbing ladders and nosing about in places where they -were not wanted; they were never allowed to see -anything important. And as for the so-called view, they -could get a better one at the Shakespeare Monument a -little farther along the downs. This was Sergeant -Ewins's opinion as he conducted Lieutenant Parkson's -visitor up the steep steps to the little well-hidden -mess-room at the cliff top, and even Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's unparalleled beauty and charm failed to win a -smile from him. Parkson, who had been on duty until -that minute, came running towards them as they entered -the small asphalted courtyard. Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, her eyes shining, her breath coming quickly -with the exertion of the ascent, clasped his hand in -hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson dismissed Ewins and apologised briskly for not -being able to receive her at the fort gates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was on duty till this minute. Our colonel's a bit -of a martinet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he not popular?" asked Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -in the low intimate—we two are alone in all the -world—voice she knew so well how to use.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson opened his eyes wide.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good Lord, yes; he's most awfully popular. He is -just, you see, and the men always appreciate that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led his visitor into the single story building, and -along a passage toward the little mess-room. Here -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth seated herself in the only -armchair—a cheap wicker article—and surveyed the room with -smiling, but intensely receptive eyes. In a flash she took -in the bare boarded floor, the trestle table, the colonel's -cigar box on the mantelshelf, the Admiralty chart of -the Solent which covered the end wall and lastly, the old -piano, which was the worst treated instrument in the Isle -of Wight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson bustled about at the tea-table, and Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth presently turned her attention upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will anyone come in and disturb us if I help you -to make the table a little more presentable?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid they will," Parkson answered. "But I -managed to choose a time when only one officer is likely -to come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he old and grumpy, or young and nice-looking -like you?" Mrs. Beecher Monmouth looked at him -with raillery in her fine eyes. She was helping herself to -marmalade, and was making the best of the thickness of -the bread and butter, and the strong tea Parkson had -poured out for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he's a dashed sight better looking than I am," -admitted Parkson modestly; "his name is Sinclair, an -old regular officer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure I shall not like him," said Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was fully a quarter of an hour before Sinclair -made his appearance, and then the tea was nearly -cold. He came in, and was introduced to Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth. Looking at his lean, handsome face and -audacious eyes she could have sworn that she had -seen him somewhere before. As a matter of fact, his -appearance was vaguely familiar to her because one of -Sinclair's earlier duties that year had been to watch her -at little dinner parties at the Savoy, Carlton and Ritz -Hotels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we have met before," probed Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, furrowing her brows, and fixing her gaze on -Sinclair's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid I have not had that pleasure," replied -Sinclair, who could act the part of smiling fatuity to -perfection. He was thinking how well she looked in her -widow's weeds, and how extraordinary cheerful was her -manner, considering the tragedy that had recently -befallen her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson and Mrs. Beecher Monmouth soon left the -mess-room, and immediately they were gone Sinclair rose -from the table, hurried to his room, and wrote a code -telegram to Dacent Smith.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Mrs. Beecher Monmouth is here. What action shall -I take?</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Two hours later his Chief's answer came.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Take no action. Treves handling the matter.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>While Sinclair was writing his telegram Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth had accompanied Parkson out into the -asphalted yard. Only certain limited areas of the fort -were open to friends of the officers. "I am afraid it is -very feminine of me," exclaimed Mrs. Monmouth as they -passed the bakehouse door, "but I should so love to -peep inside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By all means," responded Parkson, showing himself -indulgent to feminine curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tripped across the yard, and peered into the half -darkness of the bakehouse. She was carrying out her -instructions, which were to find out what had become of -Sims, but even the astuteness of Dacent Smith himself at -this moment would have failed to detect guile in the -girlish innocence of her expression as she looked into the -face of the red-haired Scotch baker who had succeeded -Sims. She examined the great tray of newly-baked -loaves, uttered feminine exclamations of astonishment -and admiration at all she saw, and finally smiled sweetly -into the face of the dour Scotch corporal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you have been here ages and ages, Mr. Lyle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, madam, it's no more than a month since I came."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson, who had listened good-humouredly, awaited -her at the door, and as they crossed the asphalt together -Mrs. Monmouth questioned him as to the baker who had -preceded Lyle. She put her questions deftly, in a manner -that would arouse no suspicion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, Sims isn't at the front." He looked at -her for a moment with fleeting doubt in his gaze, and -decided to say no more about Sims. But Mrs. Monmouth's -keen eyes interpreted his expression of reserve. -He knew something. She smiled inwardly. What he -knew she, too, would know.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid we must stop here," Parkson suddenly -said, "I am not allowed to take anyone beyond this -barbed wire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you never allow visitors to go there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never," answered Parkson emphatically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned her resplendent -countenance upon him. There was a vivid colour in her -cheeks; the rich curve of her lips glowed scarlet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How wonderful it all is—and, I suppose," she went -on, looking at him with what he and any other man would -have believed to be admiration, "you are watching and -waiting, all day and all night—waiting for the enemy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something of the sort," answered Parkson wearily. -"You never know; he may come any time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you expect him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were at the top of the steps which led to the lower -fort, the superb panorama of Alum Bay, the Ponsonby -Lighthouse and the English coast lay at their feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't say that we expect him any longer," answered -Parkson, naturally, "but we live in hope!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose the fort is very strong?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect it's capable of doing its bit," Parkson -answered judicially.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you have made it much stronger in the last -few months—since the Germans began to do badly on -the Western front?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson looked at her quickly, and she broke into a -little musical laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How silly I am!" she exclaimed. "I am talking just -like a man. That comes of living with a Member of -Parliament."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the only reference she had made to her -husband, but she made it in a tone which was intended -to convey to Parkson that Mr. Beecher Monmouth was -completely and irrevocably dead, and that being a young -and vital woman, she, on her part, could not be expected -to mourn his loss eternally.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They descended the steps together, and, in pretty -timidity, she laid her fingers upon his arm. In Parkson's -short career of gallantry he had never felt so much a man -of the world as at that moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the steep descent had been made, and they -were upon the level of the lower fort, Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth expressed much interest in the view that was to -be obtained from that level. But Parkson shook his -head, and explained that no visitors whatever were -admitted to the lower fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Failing in that project, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned -her eyes upon the tall barred gate which cut her off from -the world outside. Parkson explained to her with a -masterful smile, that, until he gave the word, she was a -prisoner in the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can test it, if you like," he said; "all you have -to do is to walk to the gate and try to get out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was nearly six o'clock, and Parkson was due upon -duty at seven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here," he said, "I have just time to show you -out of the fort the other way, across the links. I'm -afraid you'll have to go up the steps again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, however, showed herself quite -willing to make an ascent to the upper level. She was -interested and delighted in everything she saw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the top of the cliff, with the short green turf -underfoot, old Lieutenant-Commander Greaves met them, and -saluted, and went to his eyrie, his glass-covered look-out -with its great swivel telescope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a delightful old naval officer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is," returned Parkson, "and as keen as mustard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His companion put a few deft questions; it was as -though she put out invisible tentacles, groping for matter -that could be valuable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before they reached the confines of the fort Parkson -led her to the cliff edge, to the exact spot wherefrom -Manton had looked down upon Sims busy upon the sands. -Far below them lay the quiet little bay—there was -scarcely a ripple upon the blue sunlit water, and the waves -rolled and fell languidly with a musical cadence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth seated herself beside Parkson -and admired the view. She was clever enough not to -force the pace; he was already entangled in her meshes, -but he was not yet completely helpless. Aforetime she -had conquered and wrought the undoing of men far -subtler than Parkson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a lovely, lovely bay, Mr. Parkson!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson admitted the beauty of the bay. He told her -that it was within the area of the fort, and that it was -not accessible to the public, and that there was only -one way of approaching it by a narrow path descending -the chalk cliff. Then quite insidiously and with -incredible dexterity she led him round to talk of Sims. -Months later, when Parkson recalled that conversation, -he was totally unable to account for the manner in which -she had achieved a return to this subject. Sims, the -lank, cadaverous and bead-eyed Sims—who was really -Steinbaum and a German spy—what had this man to -do with the beauty and splendour of the sunlit evening? -Why should his existence interest the tragically bereaved -young widow, the society woman, who Parkson truly -believed had fallen in love with himself? "Heart taken -at the rebound," the young man quoted in fatuous -gratification. He felt delighted to think that old Greaves -had seen him in company of this lovely widow. He -wanted the ancient naval officer to think him a dog, -and when he and Mrs. Beecher Monmouth rose and -passed between attentive sentries out of the fort into -the downs, Parkson helped the lovely widow up certain -steps, out through certain areas of barbed wire, by -taking her arm in his. He wondered if old Greaves, -in his glass look-out, was watching them—old Greaves -saw pretty much everything that went on in the upper -fort. But on this occasion it was not Greaves, but -Captain Sinclair who watched him—watched every -movement they made from Greaves' glass-encompassed -tower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think of that friend of Parkson's, -Commander?" asked Sinclair, as Parkson and his guest -passed finally out of the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's the best-looking woman I've seen here since -the war began," responded Greaves. "When I was a -young man," he went on wickedly, drawing at his -pipe, "I always went in for widows. There is always so -much more to 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In this case," Sinclair answered, "the widow seems -to be bearing her sorrow pretty lightly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old husbands are soon forgotten by young wives," -observed Greaves philosophically. "When I was in -Minorca, in the old Benbow, in '72 or '73," he began, -and told Sinclair with never-ending gusto one of his -somewhat highly-spiced stories of youthful adventures -of his midship days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime Parkson conducted Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth down to her waiting motor-car. They -descended the steep hillside, and Parkson still helped her -on every occasion. The hired Ford car had been turned -in the narrow road. Parkson, with a glance at his watch, -helped her into the vehicle, daringly stepped in beside -her, and placed the dust-cover over both their knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can have a five minutes' drive with you and get -back by seven," he announced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I didn't invite you, Mr. Parkson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your eyes invited me," he returned audaciously, -and under the dust-cover he slid his fingers towards hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There ensued a palpitating moment, then Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth turned her radiantly beautiful face slightly -towards him; under long, curved lashes she gave him -a sidelong glance. Then, so that the chauffeur should -not overhear, she whispered, framing the words with -her lips:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bad, bad, naughty officer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she did not remove her hand, which was now -enclosed in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson thought it a lucky chance that she had -discarded her gloves. Parkson, in fact, was green enough -to trust her absolutely. He was, indeed, the veriest -babe in her hands. Her face was full towards him now. -She was smiling, exhibiting her splendid teeth, and -looking deep into his eyes. Her black hat and widow's -weeds added only to the brilliancy of her complexion, -to the scarlet richness of her fine lips. There was -something in her gaze, in the warm intensity of her regard, its -lingering softness, that utterly swept away Parkson's -self-possession. He leaned toward her and dropped his -voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it wasn't for the sentries there on the hill-top," -he murmured, "I'd kiss you now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bad boy," she said with her lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had a way of talking with her lips and uttering -no sound that concentrated attention on her sensuous -charms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parkson's five minutes in the car seemed to him five -minutes of heaven. He was completely and utterly -enamoured—and as to the future, the future seemed to -blaze before him in radiant and glorious romance. He -wondered how far he could go—he had never seen a -woman like her. Beautiful, feminine, coy, loving.... -What a blind idiot, thought he, Beecher Monmouth -must have been to shoot himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When shall we meet again?" he whispered, as he -alighted from the car at the end of the fort road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I shall have to meet you again soon, you -naughty boy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She put out her supple white hand, adorned only with -a wedding ring. Parkson seized her fingers and -impressed a fervent kiss upon them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the car swept away, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned -and waved a little handkerchief in farewell.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxvii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXVII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Mrs. Monmouth reached the hotel in Newport, -something over an hour after bidding Parkson farewell, -Cecily awaited her in the little sitting-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ready, madame, to dress for dinner?" asked -the maid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Cecily, and I shall dine here to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went into the bedroom, and Cecily disrobed her. -During this ceremony the girl hesitated once or twice -on the point of speaking, then refrained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what is it, Cecily? What is it you want -to say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is something important, madame, that has occurred."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned and opened her eyes -in interrogation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, for instance?" she demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily, who was at the wardrobe, took out her -mistress's evening skirt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-day, madame, when you were away, I made -acquaintance of one of the men at Heatherpoint -Fort——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" ejaculated Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, suddenly -interested; "so soon—that was clever of you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He told me, in regard to Sims, madame, he merely -left the fort——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth nodded indifferently; she -was disappointed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all you learned, Cecily?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, madame. I learned also that Lieutenant -Treves, who was supposed by us to be staying with his -father, was, however, at that time acting as one of the -officers at Heatherpoint."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the first Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had heard -of John's presence at the fort. She was at first inclined -to disbelieve it. Then, when Cecily proved -circumstantially that the statement was true, Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth felt inclined to dismiss the matter as of no -moment. If Treves had been at Heatherpoint, he was -there evidently with the knowledge of von Kuhne, and -possibly was acting in von Kuhne's interests, and, for -her part, she was not in the least inclined to doubt -John—he was one of her admirers. A more resourceful and -more attractive man than Parkson, and, nevertheless, -equally a victim of her charms. She flattered herself -she could do a great deal with Bernard Treves. As for -his attempting to deceive her, that seemed out of the -question. She pointed out to Cecily that Treves's stay -at Heatherpoint Fort did not mean that the young man -had betrayed the German secret service, which was -rewarding him so handsomely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily, however, had a further and more serious -statement to make.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I am suspicious, madame," she said, "I am -thinking not so much of Mr. Treves's visit to the fort——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was at Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's back now, hooking -her dress, and a silence fell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" demanded her mistress shortly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am thinking, madame," went on Cecily, "of the -night of Mr. Beecher Monmouth's death."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She paused again, but her mistress made no remark, -and Cecily went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On that night, madame, when I had folded away -your things, I took a skirt into the housekeeper's room -to brush. While I brushed it I talked with Mr. Duckett, -the butler, who was also there. There was no ring at -the front-door bell, madame—and yet when I returned -to your bedroom there was a light there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You left it on before you went down, Cecily!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, madame, I turned it off. I was very surprised -to see the light, as I knew you were out, madame, and -I—I——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth turned and scrutinised the -maid's sallow face and bead-like eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You looked through the keyhole!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And saw my husband, who had come back unexpectedly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, madame; I saw Mr. Treves. Mr. Beecher Monmouth -had not come home then; and Mr. Treves, madame, -was standing near your dressing-table with a small box -in his hands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth flashed an intense glance -upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What sort of box?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A black box, madame, the one you kept among your furs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's hand suddenly leapt out -and gripped Cecily's wrist. Her voice grew low, little -more than a hissing whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you saying, Cecily? What was Mr. Treves doing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cecily twisted her arm, attempting to free it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, madame, you are hurting my wrist!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth thrust forth her face—her -brilliant eyes had grown hard as agate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you never tell me this before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought, madame, you knew he was there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth relaxed her grip; she stepped -back a pace or two and threw up her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God in heaven, what a fool you are!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was natural I should think that," protested Cecily, -recoiling a step or two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Natural! You idiot!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He came in with your key, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth stared in utter amazement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My key?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, madame; I saw him fling something under the -table, and found afterwards it was your key. He must -have taken it from your bag, madame, when he visited -you in the afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth suddenly twisted on her heel -and began to pace the room. The truth had smitten her -like a blow. Wild thoughts surged through her brain. -All these long months she had believed herself tricking -and duping Bernard Treves—her business in life was to -trick, dupe, and mould men to her own ends, to the ends -of the Fatherland, to the imposition of its monstrous -Kultur upon the world—and now this man, this -handsome, drug-sodden weakling had out-manoeuvred her! -She had spun a web for him, had toyed with him, -expended her charm upon him, and all the time he had -been secretly and darkly laughing in his sleeve. Instead -of a friend and a tool, he had been an astute and daring -enemy!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Enemy—that was the word. An enemy of infinite -danger to herself, to von Kuhne, to Cherriton, to -Manwitz—to them all. An enemy to the Fatherland! An -enemy to the great, crushing blow that was about to fall -upon those arrogant and high-stomached English!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her concealed letters, that meant everything, that -exposed everything, had been found—not by her husband—but -by this cool and steel-nerved, subtle-witted enemy—this -young man who now, from that evidence, could -piece together all her life-history.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As this thought flashed into her mind, she saw her -own immediate jeopardy. She lacked nothing of courage; -and, being a woman, it was not her own physical peril, -nor the wrecking of von Kuhne's plan, that struck her -deep—it was not this, but her own vanity that was -stricken. She had made many advances to Bernard -Treves—she had given much. And, as she thought of -the past, a murderous and implacable hate blossomed -in her mind against John. An instinct to seize -something and rend it to shreds grappled her. She longed to -slap Cecily—first on one side of her sallow face and then -on the other. She would have liked to take Cecily's arm -and twist it until the woman yelled with pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as these things were not permissible, she sat down -and wrote a fiery and vitriolic letter to General von Kuhne. -She cared nothing now for von Kuhne's authority; they -were all in danger. This pleasant, amiable young -Englishman had obviously acted against them from the -very first. They believed him to be a drug-taker and a -discredited English officer with a grievance. And all -the time he had been something utterly different.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wrote this news to von Kuhne, and poured her -contempt upon him. She knew these things would hit -the chief of the German service between the eyes, and -she revelled in the thought. And all the time her intense -and passionate nature dwelt upon the thing that must -befall Bernard Treves. How much information Treves -had conveyed to his department she did not know; but -this she knew, that von Kuhne and his myrmidons would -effectually stop his mouth. The dark corps of espionage -would add another death, another extinction to its -secret crimes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had finished the letter, -she closed it, addressed it to Godfrey Manners, Esq., and -handed it to Cecily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will take this to Mr. Manners now, and ask him -to deliver it to Doctor Voules first thing to-morrow. -The doctor is in London to-day, but he will return in -the morning. Tell Mr. Manners that the letter is of the -utmost importance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth detained her a few minutes, -questioning her as to Treves's visit on the night of -Beecher Monmouth's death; then permitted her to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the maid had departed, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -stood before the little mirror on the hotel dressing-table. -"Tricked, duped and fooled!" she murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, catching sight of the pearl and emerald pendant -John had given her, she snatched it violently from her -breast and hurled it into the hearth. It would have given -her infinite pleasure at that moment to have murdered -John by slow and excruciating torture. Her thoughts -were still seething, when the dejected hotel waiter -knocked at her door and announced in plaintive tones -that dinner awaited her.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxviii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXVIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, at twelve o'clock, Doctor Voules sat at -the big oak table in his dining-room at Brooke. He had -arrived from London in the morning, and was busy -consuming a heavy lunch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The brightness of the day before had vanished; a -heavy driving rain was falling. From the single window -of the apartment the doctor could obtain a view of -drenched foliage in his garden. And, sharp to the left, -as one stood at the window, a view of the sea, grey and -restless beneath a leaden sky, was visible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor ate stolidly, grinding his food in heavy, -powerful jaws. The only other occupant of the room -was Captain Cherriton, who lounged in a chair at the -hearth and read a morning newspaper assiduously. -Beside him, on the floor, lay four or five other morning -news-sheets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For many minutes, save the drive of the rain and the -chink of Voules's knife and fork, no sound broke the -stillness of the room. Then Voules turned his chair, -took out a cigar and lit it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The barometer is falling, Rathenau," he said in his -grating, imperious voice—quite another voice from that -which he assumed as the bland Doctor Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is going down steadily, Excellenz," answered -Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good," returned the elder man. "We must have -unsettled weather for the twenty-eighth—eh, Rathenau?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is much to be desired, Excellenz."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The twenty-eighth—it was always the twenty-eighth -with General von Kuhne. With machine-like precision -his forceful mind returned again and again to that -date—the date which was to mark the consummation of his -work. The blow, the subtle, heavy blow at England's -heart—the blow planned, schemed for, and ordered; -the great destruction that had originated in his martial -and ruthless mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Things go well, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite well, Excellenz," Cherriton answered promptly, -for as yet he had not found courage to mention to the -general his suspicion of Treves. He was not yet positive -that Treves had betrayed them, and, in the meantime, -he had resolved to say nothing. Rather would he wait -and watch, seeking for tangible proof of duplicity on -Treves's part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These thoughts were passing through his mind when -a knock came at the door, and Conrad entered to clear -away the luncheon things. In his hand he carried a -salver upon which lay a single letter, addressed to Doctor -Voules, and without a stamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor took up the letter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Herr Manwitz brought it from Newport, Excellenz," -said the servant in German.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell Herr Manwitz I will see him presently, and -remain out of the room until I ring for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General von Kuhne had recognised Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's handwriting. He began to read almost -casually; then, suddenly, his interest intensified, and -as he read the lines of his heavy face grew hard, firm -and implacable. His colour rose; he eased his collar -about his throat and bit heavily upon his long cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton, noticing his agitation, noticing the blazing -wrath that illuminated his face, watched him with -anxious eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly von Kuhne sprang to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stand up!" he bellowed, looking at the younger -man with an expression of utter ferocity. "You blind, -thick-witted fool!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Cherriton's pallid features were flushed, an -angry light lit in his eye. He opened his mouth and -was about to speak, but von Kuhne swept the words out -of his mouth with a savage gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak no words to me, you —— but read that letter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He thrust Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's closely-written -sheets into the younger man's hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Read that!" he roared, "and see to what pass you -have brought us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton began to read, and as he read the colour left -his face. Von Kuhne hurried to the bell and jangled it -savagely. Conrad precipitated himself into the room in -a state of nervous agitation. He was used to authority, -but he had never yet known a bell to ring with such -violence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Voules's face turned towards him did nothing -to dissipate his alarm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell Herr Manwitz to come here this instant," roared -Voules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Excellenz." He paused a moment, then -added: "Mr. Bernard Treves is here, Excellenz. Shall -I also tell him to enter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Voules drew in a deep breath. He turned -slowly and looked into Cherriton's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stillness that ensued was intense and portentous. -The glance that passed between Voules and Cherriton -was one of infinite meaning. Voules's expression of ferocity -moderated; he turned his eyes again to the intimidated -Conrad standing in the doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long has Mr. Treves been here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A few minutes only, Herr Excellenz. He came in -after Herr Manwitz."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Conrad! You will take particular care -Mr. Treves does not leave the house, and you will in the -meantime send Herr Manwitz to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Excellenz."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You understand my order in regard to Herr Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Excellenz. He is not to leave the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General von Kuhne nodded and turned on his heel. -As the door closed upon Conrad, his implacable eyes -once more sought Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The letter you hold," he began, making a stiff gesture -towards Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's missive, which -Cherriton was still studying—"the letter you hold in your -hand convicts this man completely. His treachery to -us, his espionage"—he paused a moment—"may bring -upon us the utmost disaster. In failing to discover his -duplicity you have shown yourself no less than a -sheep-headed fool!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Herr Excellenz!" protested Baron von Rathenau, -drawing himself up, a flush of colour animating his dull -pallor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am your superior officer!" countered von Kuhne. -"It is, fortunately, my privilege to speak plain words -to you; it is equally my privilege to command your -obedience. You have failed in regard to this young man, -Bernard Treves. From the first hour of his contact with -Manwitz he has clearly tricked you both!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I venture to remind you, Excellenz, that he -tricked you also?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Von Kuhne lifted his fierce and truculent gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton was neither intimidated nor silenced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He tricked you, Herr Excellenz, the day of his first -visit here. You announced to me then that you were -satisfied. You observed upon his wrists the punctured -marks which proved him, as you said, Excellenz, to be -addicted to the injection of drugs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Von Kuhne waved these objections aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I based my opinion upon his dossier provided for -me by you and Manwitz." He began to pace the floor, -with his hands behind his back, his head thrust forward -in deep thought. "This affair, Rathenau," he said at -length, "this discovery grows more and more sinister. -It is clear to anyone not utterly a fool that every step of -yours and Manwitz has been dogged for many weeks -past. What this young man knows of our plans we shall -never learn; what he has confided to his authorities we -can only guess. One thing, however, is certain: whether -he knows much or little, his activities must cease." He -paused and looked full into the younger man's face. "Do -you gather my meaning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton bowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand, Excellenz."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Von Kuhne continued to pace the carpet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall rely upon you for effective measures."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment a knock fell upon the door, and -Conrad ushered Herr Manwitz into the room, and closed -the door upon him. The big, fat man, with his swarthy, -pouched cheeks, his bristling black moustache and -iron-grey hair, bowed deferentially to von Kuhne.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You desired to see me, Excellenz?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Von Kuhne walked to the table, took up Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's letter, and handed it to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Read that!" he said curtly. He spoke in German, -and used the commanding tone of an exalted German -officer speaking to a subordinate. Manwitz read the -letter from end to end, and as he read the colour receded -from his cheeks, his heart-beat quickened in growing -apprehension. As the import of the letter grew plain to -him, his apprehension amounted almost to terror. The -thought that Treves was a member of the English secret -service filled him with infinite dread. He had never in -his most suspicious moments conceived such a thing as -possible. Treves, the neurotic, the weak-minded -drug-taker! The man who had shown cowardice in the face of -the enemy, and had narrowly escaped court-martial! -Was it possible that this good-looking, feeble fool had -been at one and the same time a steady-nerved, watchful -member of the English Intelligence Department? Even -now, as he read Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's plain words, -he could not credit them. Nevertheless he was -afraid—mortally afraid—for his own skin. The Tower of London -and a firing squad had always loomed at the back of -Manwitz' mind as a thing of infinite menace. The -English were so peremptory in these matters—no talk, -no fuss; merely a firing squad and oblivion! He -possessed none of Cherriton's cold and brutal courage. -And the thought that his own name was written in the -tablets of the English secret service, the knowledge that -his every movement may have been watched by a skilful -English spy, sent a tremor through him that was visible -both to von Kuhne and Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You discovered this man!" said von Kuhne, thrusting -out his chin and fixing his cold gaze upon Manwitz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That I admit," answered Manwitz; "but I am prepared -to swear that he was indeed what I thought him to -be. I took the utmost care, Excellenz, and it was long -before I trusted him. His information, Excellenz, -enabled us to sink the </span><em class="italics">Polidor</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is quite true, Excellenz," Cherriton said, -suddenly puzzled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And in regard to his habits," went on Manwitz, "I -have seen him many times under the influence of drugs, -with all the symptoms, Excellenz, which I was careful to -study—dilation of the pupils, irritability, fear of imaginary -enemies——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Von Kuhne waved his hand, but Manwitz persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excellenz, he must have changed greatly, if he is, -indeed, the man mentioned here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You fool!" von Kuhne thrust at him; "of course -he is the same man! We are speaking of Treves, and no -other!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He must have changed, Excellenz!" protested -Manwitz. "Treves, as I knew him, would never have -had the nerve to act against us. I impressed upon him, -Excellenz, what the punishment for treachery would be, -and he values his own skin above all things in the -world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps almost as much as you value yours!" added -von Kuhne, with a sneer of contempt. "I have to warn -you, Manwitz, I shall expect you to act decisively and -without reservation! The Fatherland requires that this -man who has betrayed us shall expiate his treachery! -Do you get my meaning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Excellenz."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will understand," he said, looking from one to -the other, "that I am speaking officially and in my -capacity as director of intelligence. You will obey -me"—his eyes turned towards Cherriton—"as though we were -upon the sacred soil of the Fatherland!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was standing at the table, resting one hand on the -cloth. He spoke as a judge pronouncing a sentence, -and in the eyes of von Rathenau and Manwitz he was, -indeed, this. They took orders from him as inferior -officers receiving orders from a general of division. "The -removal of this man is an act of mere military justice. -My orders are that you, Manwitz, and you, Baron von -Rathenau, administer this just sentence!" He was -passing what amounted to sentence of death on Bernard -Treves. In doing this he felt no qualm, no sensitive doubt -whatever. If he had occupied an English town in his -true character as a German general in command, he -would have put to death a hundred persons for not a -tithe of the crime that John had committed against him. -In sentencing John to death, in appointing Cherriton -and Manwitz his executioners, he was carrying out what -to him was a just, even a moderate law. He had been -brought up to slaughter; he had been taught from -boyhood to crush the Fatherland's enemies. To -intimidate by frightfulness was the highest German ideal. -He was a typical military German—that is, a typical -cold-blooded murderer. He crossed to the bell now and -jangled it again—this time not quite so sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My orders," he said to Cherriton, over his shoulder, -"are to be carried out as expeditiously as possible. I -leave the method in your hands." He turned his eyes -upon Manwitz. "I shall expect you to co-operate in -the work, Manwitz!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment Conrad presented himself in the door-way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell Mr. Treves to come in," said von Kuhne.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two minutes later John entered the room. His erect -figure, his clear eye, instantly caught von Kuhne's -attention; every one of the German's suspicions was in that -moment doubly confirmed. For a moment von Kuhne -felt inclined to draw his pistol and shoot Manton down -where he stood, but by a powerful effort he assumed his -suave "Doctor Voules" manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Mr. Treves," he said. "We have seen very -little of you of late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John came into the room and shook hands with -Manwitz. He had not seen him for some time. Manwitz's -hand was cold and flabby to the touch. John felt the -atmosphere tense and electrical; he knew in some subtle -way that Voules' smoothness of tone was a veneer to hide -other and deeper feelings. The eyes of the three Germans -seemed to watch him with unusual closeness. He -instantly jumped to the conclusion that Cherriton had -been conveying his suspicions to von Kuhne. The thought -that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's suspicions had been aroused -was the last thing that would have entered his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stayed for some minutes talking upon general -topics. He had come in answer to a summons from von -Kuhne, and was surprised that the German had given -him no definite instructions. On behalf of Dacent -Smith, John had already gathered a good deal of data -about the approaching operations. He knew more than -a little of the great blow Germany was preparing, and he -felt a little puzzled that von Kuhne appeared to have -upon this occasion nothing for him to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must come again," said the German; "we will -have a further talk." He glanced at Cherriton. Cherriton -understood the meaning of the look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which way are you going, Treves?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! I shall cycle back to Freshwater," John -answered. "I promised my father I'd stay a night with -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's exactly my way back," answered Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my way also," added Manwitz, "but I'm afraid -you'll have to leave me behind, as I have no cycle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The upshot was that a few minutes later, in a pause -between two heavy downfalls of rain, John and Cherriton -set out and cycled away together from Voules's residence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John and Cherriton cycled side by side. It was John's -plan to spend the night with Treves's father. He was -fond of the old soldier, and in deceiving him was merely -carrying out his chosen part. He was playing a -dangerous game in his country's interests. And the first -man to applaud his actions would have been the fine old -soldier, whose own son had proved so utter a disappointment. -Therefore John felt no compunction in the deception.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew that infinite caution was required of him, and -that the shrewd eyes of Captain Cherriton were always -upon him. He knew that at any moment "Voules," -or Cherriton or Mrs. Beecher Monmouth might stumble -upon the knowledge of his true identity. In that case -not only would his utility to Dacent Smith come to an -abrupt end, but his own chances of escape from his -enemies' ruthlessness would be hardly worth -contemplating. He was surprised to find that, as he and -Cherriton rode side by side, the tall German talked more -volubly and affably than usual. He seemed to have -forgotten his suspicions of John, his peculiar attitude in -Doctor Voules's room had vanished. He questioned John -cheerfully as to his recent movements, and, when John -evaded his questions a little too obviously, he rallied his -companion, suggesting that he was a gay dog, that he -was neglecting his wife and bestowing his attentions -elsewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked at him keenly upon the mention of Elaine's -name, but he could read nothing on the German's pallid, -heavy-boned face. Nevertheless, as he rode, and as they -drew near to Freshwater, John became aware that his -companion had been pumping him with a good deal of -subtlety. He was trying to find out something—what -that something was John could not guess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They rode up a long hill together and came in sight of -the sea. The view was magnificent, despite the lowering -clouds and the rain, which had begun to fall again. Upon -their right hand, sloping towards the sea and the white -cliffs, lay a wide expanse of down, broken by small -coppices and clumps of gorse. There was an old grey -stone farm-house, with farm buildings, in the distance -and in the middle of the down, near a clump of trees, -were two single-storied labourers' cottages.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton drew John's attention to these buildings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you to come and have a look at that little -place, Treves," he said, in a casual tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is its particular interest?" asked John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It has a particular interest for me," Cherriton -answered, "because I have rented it furnished for six -months. It is a delightful little place, and just the sort -of bachelor abode to suit me." He turned his light blue -eyes and looked with what might have been called -frankness into John's face. "I hope you'll give me the -pleasure of being my guest there one of these days soon. -Doctor Voules is lending me Conrad for servant, and I -shall be able to make you fairly comfortable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," said John; "I shall be pleased to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not come and have a look at it now?" -continued Cherriton. "We can't ride across the heather, -but there is a path, and we can push our bicycles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks all the same," said John, "but I am afraid -I cannot spare the time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can give you a very decent peg of whisky," said -Cherriton, quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, playing the part of Bernard Treves, smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid I must keep off the whisky, as I am going -to see my father," he answered adroitly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that Cherriton pressed him no more. Presently, -however, he slackened his pace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is where I get off," he said. He dismounted, and -John also alighted. "Why not come in until the rain is -over?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind the rain," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton turned and pushed his bicycle through the -gap in the stone wall. He was still scheming with all his -thoughts to get John into the secluded cottage. A new -thought came to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way," he said, "has your friend Manwitz -been able to give you any of the tablets you used to be so -anxious about?" He paused a moment, looking John -steadily in the eyes, "or have you managed to break the -habit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John detected something in his tone which caused him -to move warily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have had nothing from him for some time; and, as -for breaking that sort of habit, it isn't so easy. What -made you ask that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Merely the fact," answered Cherriton, cunningly, -"that I think I can give you what you want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had already detected that the other had a strong -reason for getting him into the cottage, and, though at -first he had made up his mind to accept no invitation, he -now saw that he was liable to fall into a trap. For if he -declined to come to the cottage for the tablets, which -were a mania with Treves, he would without doubt deepen -Cherriton's suspicions. Therefore, acting the part of -Treves, he broke into a laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if you put it like that," he said, "I suppose I -must come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later he followed Cherriton through a -gate in a low stone wall, crossed the patch of ground -before the cottage, and entered the single-storied building. -The house was silent and deserted. John discovered -that the place, formerly two workmen's cottages, had -been knocked into one, and furnished for the purpose of -letting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The room in which John stood was low, and a gate-legged -table occupied the middle of the apartment. There -was an old-fashioned fireplace, three or four -chintz-covered chairs, and chintz curtains. From the window -John could obtain a distant view of a grey sea and a -leaden sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not over cheerful in here, is it?" said Cherriton. -"I think we had better have a fire." He put a match -to the fire, then took whisky and glasses from the -cupboard. "One peg won't hurt you," he remarked, pouring -out a drink for John. "While you are drinking, I'll -look for the tablets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stayed in the room for some minutes after that. -John noticed that he poured himself a stiff dose of whisky, -and drank it down with only a moderate addition of -water. He gave John the impression of a man who is -strung up to a high pitch of tension. He was restless and -walked the floor, explaining to John that he intended to -spend the rest of the summer and the autumn there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a good deal of writing to do," he said, "and -Dr. Voules wants me to be near him. It's not a bad little -place this, is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton went out of the room into a bedroom with -two windows, one of which looked over a deserted-looking -yard, with a covered well at the further end. He stood -at the window, gazing out into this yard, with puckered -brows, for several minutes. Then he began to open and -shut drawers in the dressing-table, making a considerable -noise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came into the sitting-room a few minutes later and -apologised to John, saying that he must have made a -mistake about the tablets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can find no sign of them," he said, "but you must -come again, and I promise to have some for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had been watching him closely, suddenly -rose from his chair and confronted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Cherriton," he demanded, "what's your game?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton's face took on a stony expression</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What game?" he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you so deucedly restless?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton broke into a laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's your imagination. I am not in the least restless; -I am only worried that I have dragged you here for -nothing. Have another whisky?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thanks," said John, this time firmly. "I must -be pushing along." He happened to be looking into -Cherriton's face as he said this, and something took place -on the other's face that startled him—a flame of -something like ferocity lit up in the German's eyes, then -instantly vanished. After that, however, he made no -further attempt to detain John. He came to the end of -the little cottage garden as John went away, and watched -him as he mounted his bicycle and rode away towards -Freshwater. Then he returned to the cottage, closed -the door behind him, and, dropping into a chair, took -out Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's letter and read it -carefully from end to end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was still in his chair at the hearth half an hour -later when Manwitz knocked at the door, and came in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Manwitz, come in!" said Cherriton, rising. -Manwitz had halted in the doorway, and was slowly -drawing off his mackintosh. There was a mute expression -in his eyes. Cherriton, reading his expression, pointed -to a chair at the opposite side of the hearth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Manwitz; nothing has happened yet; -our friend is spending the night with his father, but -he has arranged to come over here to see me to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manwitz took a handkerchief from his inner pocket, -and mopped his brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is terrible, Herr Baron! His Excellenz affirms -that he has been watching us from the beginning, but in -that case how can he explain the sinking of the </span><em class="italics">Polidor</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The time for explanations has gone, Manwitz. -Treves's discoveries, whatever they are, must not be -permitted to check the great work his Excellenz has put -his hand to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some minutes after that there was silence between -the two men; then Manwitz spoke, easing his collar -about his fat throat:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His Excellenz impressed upon me, Herr Baron, the -business of Mr. Treves is of the utmost urgency."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is understood," Cherriton answered grimly. -"But His Excellenz has no wish that I should play the -fool and expose myself to unnecessary danger. His -Excellenz can rely entirely upon my discretion—and our -united capacity to carry out his command, eh, Manwitz?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manwitz smiled and nodded, but entirely without -enjoyment. Cherriton's coolness in face of the terrible -duty that lay before them filled him with both terror -and envy.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxix"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXIX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At six o'clock that same evening Colonel Treves issued -from the front door of his fine Tudor residence at -Freshwater, and made his way down the drive. The weather -had cleared, there was a golden light in the west, and the -Colonel, wearing a tweed suit, walked briskly towards -the lodge-keeper's cottage. He told himself that he had -come there entirely upon business—merely to give the -man certain personal orders. The truth of the matter -was, however, that he could no longer stay in the house. -He was expecting his son; he was looking forward to -meeting his boy Bernard with a keener and happier -interest than he had felt for many years. During recent -months all his old love for his only offspring had returned. -He was an old man, and the son who for many years had -disappointed him had now grown to be a real Treves, and -a man of honour. A smile flitted across his fine, kindly -face. He believed that he had at last discovered the -reason of Bernard's altered behaviour. The boy who -had been tragically cashiered from the army, who had, -indeed, been almost proved guilty of cowardice in the -face of the enemy, had righted himself; and not only -had he won the confidence of his superiors, but he had -been entrusted with delicate and difficult duties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Colonel Treves reached the lodge-keeper's -single-storied abode, he held the man in conversation for some -minutes, but his eyes turned incessantly towards the -sloping road that led past his gate. When at last he saw -a khaki-clad figure on a bicycle, he turned to his elderly -employée:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Adams," he said, "is that Mr. Bernard coming along?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," answered the man, after a minute or two's -scrutiny.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John reached the drive, the Colonel was at the -gate to meet him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Bernard, boy, so there you are," he exclaimed, -gripping the young man's hand. "I just happened to be -doing a little business here with Adams, and caught sight -of you. Come in, boy, come in. How do you think -Mr. Bernard's looking, Adams?" he said, turning to the old -servant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's looking fine, sir," answered the man. "I've -seldom seen him looking so well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave your bicycle with Adams," said the Colonel; -"you can take me up to the house. I am not quite so -brisk as I used to be." And he slipped his arm through -John's and went up the drive, talking happily and -cheerfully as he went. John had always felt drawn towards -him; it was impossible for him not to feel admiration and -pity for this splendid old fellow. He experienced a sense -of pleasure that his visit could give the old man such -genuine delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Bernard, boy," said the Colonel, "I have a -word to say to you before we go in the house. I have a -surprise waiting for you there, but before we go in I want -to ask you one thing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" John asked quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's this, Bernard, boy; you haven't been trusting -me. You haven't relied upon me as a son should rely on -his father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In what way, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll find that out, Bernard, boy, when we get -indoors," said the Colonel enigmatically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John questioned him closely, but he could learn nothing, -and presently Gates, the old butler, drew open the door, -greeted John with a smile, and took his hat and gloves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your suit-case arrived this morning, sir," he informed -John. "I have taken it to your room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the south room, Bernard, boy," intervened the -Colonel; "it's the first time you've had the honour of -sleeping in the room that used to be your mother's. But -this is a special reunion, Bernard. I had to do -something to mark the occasion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took John's arm again, and together they ascended -to the library, the room in which John had first made his -acquaintance. There was something on the Colonel's -mind which gave him pleasure, and filled him with an -air of humorous mystery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you've seen who's in the library, Bernard," -he said, as they drew near the green baize-covered door, -"you'll understand what I mean about trusting me better -in the future."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drew open the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Bernard, boy; come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John followed him into the big, handsome apartment, -with its mullioned windows and its fine view of the sea. -There was some one standing by the hearth with back to -the fire-place, and John suddenly caught his breath and -stood still. Elaine Treves was there, smiling at him, -and as he entered the room she came forward, holding out -both hands in greeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard," she exclaimed, a light of happiness -radiating her gentle beauty; "you didn't expect to -find me here, did you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's surprise was complete. Thoughts of Elaine -had been with him during the greater part of his ride, -but he remembered Treves's secret in regard to his wife, -the fact that he had always kept his marriage from his -father's knowledge. He was therefore astonished to -find Elaine installed under her father-in-law's roof. -She looked very much at home, and John wondered -consumedly how she had managed to come there. He also -foresaw new difficulties for himself; nevertheless he was -delighted to see her, her freshness, her beauty, her -winning confidence in himself all tended to please him. -It took him very few minutes to observe that her presence -brightened Colonel Treves's home amazingly. It was -obvious to John that she had already won her way into -the old fellow's heart, and as Elaine reached up and shyly -kissed him, the Colonel smiled upon them both with an -air of infinite benevolence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," exclaimed Colonel Treves, rallying John half -an hour later, when Elaine had gone to dress for dinner. -"Now do you see why I asked you to trust me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I do," said John, somewhat awkwardly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here, you young rascal, you go and marry a charming -girl, who would bring credit and honour to my family, -and you hide her away from me, pretending all the time -that I am the strict and cruel father. That shows how -greatly you misunderstood me, Bernard boy. Why, if -I had chosen a wife for you myself, I couldn't have made -as good a choice as you made in marrying Elaine. She's -been here three days, Bernard, and already I feel towards -her as to my own daughter. I always feared you would -make a fool of yourself in marrying." He paused and -looked at John with his dim eyes. "Sometimes, Bernard -boy," he said, with a touch of wistfulness in his tone, -"I cannot understand the change that has come over -you, the improvement. But it's the good blood coming -out, eh—the Treves blood. I always hold that blood -tells, and in your case my conviction has been proved -more than right. Now, Bernard, how long can you stay -with me this time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only to-night, sir, I am sorry to say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, come," protested the old Colonel, "I'd -expected a week at least." As he spoke the door opened, -and Elaine entered the room dressed for dinner. For the -first time John saw her in evening apparel. Her dress -was of an inexpensive pale yellow material, muslin or -silk, John did not know which, and did not care. Her -dark hair was beautifully coiffeured, her cheeks glowed -with colour, and there was a light of happiness in her -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Treves glanced at the clock on his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, it's nearly seven!" he exclaimed. "I had no -idea it was so late. I must run away and change. You'll -want to get out of those puttees, Bernard," he said, -glancing at John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said John. "I am in the south room, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Colonel nodded, and John, wondering exactly -where the south room might be, went out of the library. -He walked along the corridor, and chanced upon a house-maid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which is my room, please?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The housemaid preceded him along the passage, and -opened a door, switched on the electric light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John thanked her, and found himself in an imposing -bedroom, beautifully furnished in the French style. His -suit-case had been unstrapped and was upon a stand at -the foot of the bed. Laid neatly out upon the bed -itself were his clothes for the evening. A fine apartment, -thought John, and at that moment a knock fell upon -the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in," he called. The door opened quietly, and -Elaine stepped into the room. She advanced across -the room in the most natural manner in the world. -There was a light in her fine grey eyes, and she was -visibly and quite frankly delighted to be alone with -John. John, for his part, saw in a flash the awkwardness -of the position chance had imposed upon him. In his -sudden surprise in finding Elaine under Colonel Treves's -roof he had overlooked a </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span> of this kind. He -had indeed hardly had time to think of the matter at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard, are you really pleased to see me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Delighted," John answered, wondering what other -word he could use, for, as a matter of truth, he was -delighted and appalled at the same time. He felt that -the situation involving him would require the utmost -finesse, if he meant to escape satisfactorily. His own -nerves were strung up to a high pitch of tension, and it -came as a surprise to him that Elaine should act as -though their presence together in that stately sleeping -apartment was the most natural event in the world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you like my dress, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came towards the glittering dressing-table and -turned slowly for his inspection. Her attitude, her -confidence were exquisitely attractive to John. Her -wifely anxiety to win her husband's approval was the -prettiest thing he had ever seen. And once again the -splendid rich duskiness of her hair, the gentle glow of her -cheeks, the fine contours of her well-turned lips, and the -fairness of her skin won his admiration. But it was not -this, it was in no sense her radiant and girlish beauty -that had evoked John's feelings. Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -possessed beauty, but she lacked utterly the -frankness and generous natural trust, the appealing -femininity, in fact, which is always potent in the winning -of a man's love. For it was love, and love only that -John felt for this girl who was Bernard Treves's wife, who -was nothing to him, and could never be anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To ease the situation he told her lightly that her dress -suited her to perfection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said when we first met, Bernard, that this -primrose colour suited me best, so I put it on to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only to please me?" asked John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I like to please your father, too, Bernard," -she went on. "I think he is wonderful; just the beau -ideal of a fine, upright soldier. I cannot understand how -you could ever have doubted his generosity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't doubt him," John answered. "I only -misunderstood him, and acted like a fool."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But in regard to our marriage. If you had told him -months ago, I am sure he would have been just as pleased -as he is now. Why didn't you, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," John answered. "But I am sure he -would have been pleased if I had been sensible enough to -trust him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine seated herself upon an ottoman, an old-fashioned -circular piece of furniture which decorated the middle of -the apartment. For a minute she let her eyes wander -over the refined luxury of the room, then said quietly and -thoughtfully:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So this used to be your mother's room, Bernard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John drew in his breath slowly. "Yes," he answered, -and, as he spoke, he felt suddenly and acutely the falsity -of his position. He was upon dangerous ground, and he -felt again intense dislike at having to deceive this woman, -who was everything in the world to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it was so dear of your father," resumed -Elaine thoughtfully, "to let us have this room." John -cast a swift look in her direction. "He could not have -paid us a greater compliment," Elaine went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was entirely absorbed in her thoughts. To her -it was the most natural thing in life that the Colonel -should honour his son and his son's wife by allotting to -them this fine apartment. In doing so he was tacitly -informing the young couple that Elaine in her turn was -to be the lady of the house. But so far as John was -concerned, Elaine's quiet acceptance of himself and of -this fact filled him with consternation. He felt himself -enmeshed and hopelessly bewildered. This was not his -room only, but Elaine's. It had not entered his mind -to look into the wardrobe; he had not even noticed the -pair of ladies' gloves which lay upon the dressing-table. -But now as he turned away, so that Elaine might not -read his glance, his eyes fell upon her gloves for -the first time. A moment of acute crisis had arisen. -Nevertheless he still fenced, peeking a way out of -the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot understand," he said, "how you managed -to get into touch with my father after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine laughed brightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been wondering when you would ask that, -Bernard. It was all owing to the old butler, Mr. Gates. -He came to 65, Bowles Avenue. It seems that you gave -that address once at the Savoy Hotel in case Mr. Dacent -Smith sent for you suddenly. Gates went to the Savoy -to find you, to give you a message from your father, and -the Savoy people gave him my address. I answered the -door to Gates myself, and in the course of his inquiries -about you, I told him who I was. He had never heard of -me before and was very much surprised. Naturally, -when he came back here, he told your father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," said John, "and my father invited you here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not only invited me, but he has been absolutely -charming to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see anything very extraordinary in that," -returned John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but I might have been the most horrid sort of -creature. He knew nothing whatever about me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He only needed to look at you," John answered, -"to see that—that I had made an ideal marriage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have made him tell me everything about your -boyhood, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John winced. He had no wish to discuss a boyhood -that was naturally a blank to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe I know more about your schoolboy days -than you do yourself," smiled Elaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shouldn't wonder," said John with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Despite himself, against caution and his better judgment, -he was beginning to enjoy the scene. He was still -at the dressing-table, and in the depths of the mirror he -could see behind him Elaine's reflection, a delicate and -beautiful picture, seated on the ottoman behind him, -looking at him with admiring and loving eyes, believing -in him, and trusting him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard!" Her tone was low and intimate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come and sit beside me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know whether I can," said John; "I've—I've -got a letter to write." He was quick at inventing -excuses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't care much for me, Bernard, if you bother -to write a letter, after not seeing me for so long." She -rose and came towards him. He felt foolish and awkward -when she took his hand in hers, led him to the -ottoman and seated him beside her. "Tell me what -you have been doing all these long days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, all sorts of things," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you ever think of me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Often," John answered, truthfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you been loving me? Look into my eyes and -say it, Bernard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned his face towards hers. He saw love in her -eyes; love that was offered to himself alone; and as he -sustained the radiant tenderness of her gaze a wild -impulse came to him to cast discretion to the winds. -He hovered on the verge of telling her frankly and bluntly -that he was not her husband. Nevertheless he longed -to tell her that she was the one woman in all the world -for him, that she had won his deepest love, and that he -was prepared to break down all barriers, to risk -everything if——. Then suddenly he caught himself up. -His lips were sealed. As an honourable man, even if he -admitted his true identity, he must not utter his love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you looking at me so strangely, Bernard?" There -was a puzzled and anxious light in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You suddenly drew your brows together and looked -at me so furiously that I thought I must have offended -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You could never offend me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think you love me after all." She was holding -his hand in hers, looking wistfully up into his face. -"Do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John slid his fingers away from her touch and rose. -He began to pace the floor uneasily. As always, he was -seeking a way out, racking his brains for a solution. -But there was only one method of escape, and that lay in -sudden and ignominious flight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Elaine!" he said, suddenly and brutally. -"It has occurred to me that I ought to go away again -to-night, immediately after dinner!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She rose and looked at him with startled eyes. John -went on, clumsily:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something important has turned up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but, Bernard, that would be too cruel. I have -hardly seen you!" She came to him quickly and laid -her hands on his shoulders. There was entreaty in her -fine eyes, upraised to his. "You'll stay just to-night," -she implored, wistfully, "just for my sake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John put her away from him almost roughly; his voice -was hoarse and low.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's impossible, Elaine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood for a moment regarding him with steady -gaze. A long, tense silence lay between them. Then -she spoke, quietly, and with a dignity that somehow -wrung John's heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then all your protestations of love for me mean -nothing at all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They mean everything," said John, in the same low tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet you repulse me as if you hated me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mean to act cruelly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you had any regard for me at all, you'd stay. It -isn't the first time, Bernard, that you—you've humiliated -me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked into her face that had grown suddenly -tragic. He saw in a moment how completely justified -she was in her attitude. He had protested his love for -her only a few minutes earlier, and had then snatched at -something that must have seemed to her the thinnest -of excuses for hurrying away—for leaving her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you loved me really, Bernard, you'd stay." Her -voice was very low. "However, I have suffered the -humiliation of your refusal. I shall not make the same -mistake again." She turned and walked slowly towards -the door. John saw that she could scarcely restrain her -tears; her head was uplifted—she was superb in her -dignity. For the life of him John could not refrain from -striding a few paces towards her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine!" he implored, in a voice that rang with -emotion. "Don't misjudge me. And as for humiliating -you, I'd do anything in the world rather than do that! -Look here, Elaine, you think I don't love you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned quietly and looked at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have every proof of it! In London you refused to -stay with me; it is the same here. Your words say one -thing—your actions another!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will be able to make some excuse to your father -for not occupying the same room with me——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In that moment, with her face pale, her head erect, a -strange light in her eyes, she was more than ever beautiful. -In John's eyes she was the fairest and finest-looking -woman that ever breathed. Something made him put out -his hand and grip her fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She strove with surprising strength to release herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Bernard, don't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then John's elaborate and well-sustained defences -fell. He forgot everything in a sudden wild rush of -passion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't love you, Elaine?" he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never loved me——" she began. And in that -moment John's arms swept about her. He forgot -everything—the world faded. He and the fairest of -women—the woman of his love—were together, and he -was kissing her as he had never kissed any woman.... -Elaine's weak protests faded; astonishment swept over -her, and gave place to a wonderful and radiant happiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" breathed John; "if you only knew how -much I loved you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard—Bernard—Bernard!" she whispered. -Then, to her infinite astonishment, John wrenched himself -free; he put his hands to his brows, and fell back several -paces, like a man who has received a stunning blow -between the eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine," he said, with clenched fists, his face suddenly -pale, his eyes wild—"forget that I held you in my arms! -Forget what I said! Forget everything!" His voice -rose almost to a shout.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later he had rushed out of the room, and -had drawn the door behind him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxx"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Almost as John closed the door of the south room Gates -began to strike, in rising and rhythmic cadences, the great -dinner-gong that stood in the hall. The elderly butler -turned as John halted at his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that the dressing-bell, Gates?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Mr. Bernard, the dressing-bell went at the usual -time, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked at him in surprise. He had heard nothing. -During that scene in the room upstairs, when he had lost -possession of himself, the sound of the bell had passed -unheard. John felt no wonder at that; even now his -thoughts whirled through his brain. His temperament -was naturally cool, equable, and determined. Never in -his life could he recollect having completely forgotten -himself, as he had forgotten himself with Elaine a few -minutes earlier. The power of love, indeed, had reduced -him to the common standard. His nerve, his self-possession, -his swift power of decision—all the gifts, in -fact, that commended him to Dacent Smith, had deserted -him in a flash. For a brief moment—for a space of a -moment—he had forgotten everything, save the fact that -he loved a woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood now thinking of these things, and was amazed -at the blind passion that had seized him. He began to -condemn himself bitterly and savagely. His deception -of Elaine stood before him as a monstrous thing. The -thought that he occupied another's man shoes, and had -thus led her to pour out a love which she would have -otherwise concealed, struck him as a criminal proceeding -upon his part. He was obliged to confess to himself that -he had dallied with the situation, that he had not acted -firmly enough. On the other hand—a small voice -whispered this—his deception of Elaine was not his -fault; he had not wittingly deceived her. He had, -indeed, acted all through as an honourable man. This -last thought gave him a certain amount of comfort as -he crossed the great hall and entered the drawing-room. -Colonel Treves was the sole occupant of the room, -and was standing with his back to the white marble -fire-place, his hand resting on the stick he used as support. -John noticed that in evening clothes the old man looked -more imposing and distinguished than ever. The Colonel -drew out his watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's Elaine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John explained that he had left Elaine upstairs a few -moments ago, and presently Elaine, a little pale, came -into the drawing-room. No glance passed between her -and John. With a courtly air, Colonel Treves advanced -towards her and crooked his elbow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I have the honour?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine slipped her arm into his. In her pale primrose -dress, with her well-coiffeured dark hair emphasising the -whiteness of her neck, she looked scarcely more than a -child. John noticed with admiration that her head was -held erect. She smiled and talked graciously to the -Colonel as he led her into the dining-room and placed her -upon his right hand. For John there was no smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just as the south room and the drawing-room were -strange to John, so also was the dining-room. He seated -himself opposite Elaine at the head of a long gleaming -white table. Gates moved from place to place softly -and noiselessly. Colonel Treves, who was happier than -he had been for years, made a perfect host. His -happiness intensified John's own loneliness. A sensation of -being a pariah came upon him; he felt that he would -have given ten years of his life to be actually sitting -there in the flesh as the real son of the fine old man who -headed the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to Elaine, and his relations with Elaine, he dared -not let his mind dwell upon that subject. He was -attempting to indicate by his attitude his complete -contrition for what had occurred. He tried to catch Elaine's -eye. She looked at him, but there was something -enigmatical in her expression that he was unable to -understand. Her good breeding was such that to the -outward eye—to the Colonel's eye, in fact—their -relationship was exactly as it had been before, and yet John -knew that a barrier had risen between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine maintained her air of stately reserve during the -rest of the evening, and at ten o'clock, when she rose to -go to her room, the Colonel politely conducted her to the -door. As he closed it upon her he turned and looked -towards John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a lucky man, Bernard!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came slowly across the room, using his stick, as -was his general habit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope some day, my boy," he said, "when this -place is yours, Elaine will reign here as graciously and -be as well beloved as your dear mother was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure she will, sir," answered John quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man slid his arm through his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall take me up to the library. We can smoke -there, and make ourselves comfortable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the library that night John heard much of Colonel -Treves's past history, much of the family history, of the -man whose identity he was wearing, and the more he -heard of Bernard Treves the more he realised what a -complete and utter waster that young man was. Often -of late he had thought of Treves in the nursing home, -and wondered what were the conditions of his detention -there. Dacent Smith was always reticent upon that -point. The sinking of the </span><em class="italics">Polidor</em><span> through the agency of -Treves had been a black and irredeemable crime. A -time was bound to come when the young man must -answer for that piece of black treachery against his -country. Looking at the matter in the most charitable -light, John regarded Treves, as evidently Dacent Smith -regarded him, that is, as a feeble, will-less creature, -whose reason had been unseated, at any rate temporarily, -by the drugs which were a mania with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fact that Manwitz and Cherriton had plied him -with these drugs showed only the bold unscrupulousness -of the German methods. The German Intelligence -Department had used Bernard Treves, and had moulded -him to its purpose as though he had been of wax. And -had not Dacent Smith brilliantly substituted John for -Treves, untold disasters would have ensued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bernard!" The Colonel's voice startled John out -of his thought. "Bernard, I have seen Gosport lately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John wondered who Gosport might be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," went on the Colonel. "I was hasty with you, -but I have made everything right. I have made up -my mind to leave everything to you after all. What do -you say to that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very generous of you, sir," John answered. -He knew that it was utterly impossible that a penny of -the Colonel's possessions should ever be his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, it is only right," responded the Colonel. -"You have married well. You have rehabilitated -yourself in every way, and I find you more what a Treves -should be every time we meet." He suddenly gripped -John's hand in his. "You have given me great happiness, -Bernard, and one of the reasons I made haste to -change my will is that the doctor has given me rather a -bad report of myself. I don't think you'll have to put -up with me for very long, Bernard!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't say that, sir!" answered John, quickly and -impulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fear it is the truth," said the Colonel; "but I can -face the next world with a far better grace than I could -have done a year ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was thinking of the fine old house and the properties -which a year ago might have fallen into the hands of a -worthless son. Now, as by a miracle, that son had -become a man—a man of honour—and a Treves. The -two things were synonymous in the Colonel's eyes, and -the future, whatever it might be, however soon darkness -might come, held for him no terrors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was after eleven that night when the Colonel went to -his room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll sit up and write a few letters at your desk, if I -may, father," said John, after escorting the elder man -to the door of his bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went back to the library, shut himself in, and -dropped into a chair at the hearth. What Elaine was -doing, what were her thoughts, he could not guess. He -wondered if she was waiting for him, expecting him to -come and ask for forgiveness. Perhaps some time in -the dim future, when the whole truth was told, she -might forgive; but for the present he knew that nothing -he could do would right him in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sat in the arm-chair, dozing and thinking, until -dawn came.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the breakfast gong rang next morning Elaine -descended and found the Colonel alone at the table. The -old man looked disturbed, but in no way depressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will have to content yourself with me, Elaine," -he said, "now that Bernard has deserted us again. He -left me a note saying that important business has arisen, -and ran away before I was down. But of course," added -the old man as an afterthought, "you know all about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine inclined her head, and said nothing. Colonel -Treves put out his hand and laid it on her slender fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When the war is over, you and my boy Bernard -will live here together, and be as happy as crickets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very, very dear of you to say so, father." Sudden -tears glistened in her eyes. She clasped the Colonel's -old, frail fingers in hers. In that moment it seemed to her -that he was the only friend she possessed in the world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So far as John was concerned, Elaine dared not let -herself think. The strange scene in the south room had -burnt itself into her brain. John's tremendous anxiety -to get away from her, together with the undoubted fact -that he loved her, was bewildering beyond solution. -The thought that her husband had reverted to the drug -habit had long been discarded. None of the symptoms -that had marked him in the early days of their marriage -were present—he was as another man in her eyes. She -loved him—she was afraid, and she was bewildered. -Every post that came found her anxiously awaiting a -letter from John. But none came; two eventless days -passed. But upon the evening of the second day after -John's departure a dramatic mischance that had been -impending—that had, indeed, been inevitable from the -beginning—occurred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine had made her way alone into the grounds. Her -mood was one that called for solitude, and in the quiet -of the long, fir-treed avenue, the drive which led from -the mansion to the road, she found the seclusion she -needed. The evening was clear, and through tree-stems -the ocean, glassily blue and empty of shipping, spread -to the far horizon. The scene was calm, reposeful—everything, -in fact, a troubled spirit could require.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently, however, the entrance gate at the end of -the drive was pushed open. A young man in a green -felt hat and wearing stiff Sunday clothes came into the -drive and walked slowly forward. Elaine, as the stranger -drew near, noticed that he was a youth, little more than -twenty, wearing a service-rendered badge. The young -man wore his green hat slightly on one side—his -complexion was fresh, his cheeks ruddy, and his general -expression one of amiable stupidity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine glanced at him and was about to pass, thinking -he carried a message to the house, when the visitor -halted in his walk and sheepishly lifted his hat. As he -halted he drew from his pocket a crumpled, rather -grimy-looking envelope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that Colonel Treves's house, miss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Elaine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got a letter for there, miss," went on the young -man; "it's addressed to Mrs. Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no Mrs. Treves," Elaine answered; then -quickly remembering, she smiled the gracious smile that -was always so attractive to John. "I'm Mrs. Bernard -Treves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man handed her the letter, and instantly -Elaine's casual air vanished, for the address was in her -husband's handwriting, and had been scrawled hurriedly -in pencil.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tore open the envelope and read the single sheet -of notepaper within.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>DEAR ELAINE, ran the note, </span><em class="italics">I want you to give the -bearer of this ten shillings. Then, if you can, and as -soon as you can, you must raise ten pounds and let him -bring it here to me. General Whiston and a person called -Dacent Smith have been keeping me prisoner here. The -suggestion is that I am</em><span> non compos mentis. </span><em class="italics">I don't -know whether my father's in it or not, so on no account -mention this letter to him. Whatever you do, don't fail -me; I have been suffering the tortures of the damned -here. The young man who brings this can get to me, -and there is a nurse here who can help me to get away -if I can get hold of ten pounds. Remember this, Elaine, -you are my wife, and I hope you aren't siding with -my father against me. I can't stand the torture of -being here any longer, so I look to you to act quickly. -You can act quickly enough when you want to. I am -nearly off my head with being deprived of the medicine -I used to take. The bearer of this would get into trouble -if found out, so don't forget to treat him well.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">Your affectionate husband,</em></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>BERNARD TREVES.</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As Elaine slowly read this letter for a second time the -colour fled from her cheeks. Her heart-beat quickened -almost to suffocation—she could make nothing of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes travelled to the head of the missive and read:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"St. Neot's Nursing Home, Ambleside Road, Ryde."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"St. Neot's Nursing Home—St. Neot's Nursing -Home." Under her breath she uttered the words in -a dazed, stupefied fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed impossible that her husband, who had been -with her only forty-eight hours before, could be -incarcerated there. Then the strangeness of the -letter! ... She read it again, shrinking instinctively from its -tone. Here was her husband as she had known him -from the beginning—querulous and domineering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a minute she wondered if there had been some -extraordinary and unexplainable mistake, but she knew -his handwriting. Nevertheless, with a great effort to -steady herself, she looked into the face of the messenger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you will come to the house," she said, "I shall -be pleased to give you something for being so kind as to -bring this to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you one of the servants at St. Neot's Home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, miss. I work for the dairy that supplies them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Elaine glanced at the crumpled letter in her -fingers. There was no possibility of forgery—and yet -how came it that Dacent Smith should wish to detain -her husband? She recalled that the brilliant Chief of -the secret service had had nothing but praise for Bernard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again she looked quickly into the young man's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you seen Mr. Treves lately?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw him this morning, miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed ridiculous to put the question, to dally still -with the idea of forgery. Nevertheless, she put it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could you describe Mr. Treves to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, miss. He's a good-looking gentleman. Tall, -dark hair——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Elaine, interrupting him—and her -last doubt vanished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something had happened to Bernard since yesterday -morning, since his departure from the house without -saying good-bye to her. He had evidently been seized -and incarcerated in the nursing home against his will. -Yet, even now, as she strove to accept the fact, her -instinct rebelled against it. The thing seemed so motiveless, -so utterly outside the natural order of events; and -Bernard must have been seized almost immediately -after he left his father's house, for she noted that his -letter was dated the day before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She again questioned the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long has Mr. Bernard Treves been at St. Neot's -Nursing Home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The first time I saw him there, miss, was about two -months ago, when he asked me to get him something at -a chemist's; but he must have been there more than a -month before that. I should think, miss, he's been there -going on for three months or thereabouts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three months!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About that, miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine looked at him with widened eyes. The thing -was impossible and incredible. Nevertheless, she dared -not let the matter rest where it was. She decided to -act, and to act instantly. As yet no suspicion of the -truth had dawned upon her.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxxi"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXXI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At the very hour when Elaine received the strange letter -signed "Bernard Treves," a letter which awoke all her -defensive feminine instincts, John occupied a chair in -the little mess-room at Heatherpoint Fort. The occasion -was one of deep and portentous significance. At the -head of the table, where Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had so -recently taken tea with Lieutenant Parkson, General -Whiston was seated in state. His big, commanding -figure bulked largely in the chair usually occupied by -Colonel Hobin. Beneath the General's eyes was a map -of the South Coast defences—an elaborate, minutely -particularised map, which in a layman's eyes would have -been almost undecipherable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The General held a blue pencil over a particular section -of the Solent; his eyes, however, were fixed upon the -countenance of a naval captain who sat at his left hand, -a little farther down the table. Opposite the naval -captain was Colonel Hobin, and next to Hobin sat old -Commander Greaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John occupied an insignificant position next to Greaves, -and near the end of the table there was a vacant chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there no possibility, Captain," inquired General -Whiston, speaking to the naval officer, "of altering the -mine-field in the time at our command?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the naval officer lay a small Admiralty chart of -the Solent clustered with a multitude of red crosses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he said, deliberating upon the situation, -"this is a pretty elaborate field, and it would take us -quite two days to make an effective new arrangement. -Of course, we could mine the free channels, but that -prevents us coming in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went into technical details.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Whiston cast a glance at John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are quite sure your friends Voules and Company -intend to strike on the twenty-eighth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the evidence I have been able to get points to -that, sir," answered John promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The twenty-eighth is the day after to-morrow," put -in Greaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Dacent Smith," said John, "had an idea that -the attack might be postponed, but he has now come -round to my view."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact, John had that day amply convinced -his chief that the German blow was to fall on the -date originally prescribed. Since leaving Colonel Treves's -house, and since his embarrassing interview with Elaine, -John had made certain valuable discoveries, all of -which pointed to the imminence of the German attack -on the South Coast defences. With infinite subtlety -von Kuhne had managed to institute nefarious schemes -in a dozen different directions. The night of the -twenty-eighth had been marked out in the German general's mind -with the clockwork precision which was a second nature -to him. And John believed that nothing would shake -his resolution. Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's particular -work of the early part of that night was to see that -Lieutenant Parkson was not at his post. All her potent -charms were to be expended to that end. That she -would succeed in her task was, in von Kuhne's and the -lady's own eyes, a foregone conclusion. As to Manwitz, -he was to be mysteriously occupied with certain men -of his Majesty's forces whose business it was to operate -the boom between Ponsonby Lighthouse and Windsor -Fort. Cherriton's particular duty upon the eventful -night John had not been able to discover. The tall -German still occupied the isolated cottage he had recently -taken on the Downs near Freshwater. Since John's -visit to the cottage he had not had further meeting with -this particular formidable enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In thinking of his visit to the cottage, however, John -was conscious that the man's attitude upon that day -had been singular in the extreme. What had been in -Cherriton's mind he did not know, and he was, of course, -totally unaware that sentence of extermination had -been passed upon him. It is no stretch of imagination -to say that in visiting the cottage he had, without knowing -it, walked within the very shadow of the grave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friend Cherriton is no mean antagonist," thought -John, pondering upon the German's personality as he -sat in the little mess-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now that the great blow was so soon to fall, Dacent -Smith—an unusual circumstance with him—had left his -post in London and come to the Isle of Wight. General -Whiston and Captain Throgmorton, who respectively -commanded the counter military and naval measures, -found the pleasant, keen-eyed Chief of Intelligence an -invaluable ally. His intuitive knowledge of the German -character proved to be of the utmost assistance. He had -been studying Germany and the German secret service -for twenty years, and what he did not know about -Teutonic psychology, chicanery and guile, was not worth -knowing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith, however, never made the mistake of -under-estimating his enemy. Von Kuhne's blow would, -he conceded, be a well-wrought and scientifically delivered -attack. There was one slight thing, however, which von -Kuhne had possibly overlooked—he had possibly overlooked -the important fact that the Isle of Wight is after -all an island, and that in gathering his forces upon this -particular portion of His Majesty's dominions he was -isolating himself from chances of escape in case of failure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith thought a good deal upon this subject -during his first day at Heatherpoint Fort. But when he -presently resumed his chair at the end of the table in the -little mess-room, opposite General Whiston, his pleasantly -good-humoured face showed nothing of the intense mental -activity within.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Whiston lifted his eyes as Dacent Smith took -his seat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, have you found out anything else for us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing," answered Dacent Smith, "except further -confirmation that von Kuhne will make his attempt the -day after to-morrow. He has disposed his forces with a -good deal of ingenuity. This end of the Isle of Wight is -at present dotted with amiable Britishers who happen to -be Germans!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A curious smile flitted across the face of John's -Chief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must have been very gratifying," said he, "to -Captain Cherriton, Manners, and von Kuhne to say -'British subject' to our good-looking policeman as they -stepped on board the boat at Lymington. Manners, so I -hear, was the only one of a dozen who came that way -who showed the slightest trace of nervousness. I think -we shall have to reckon, General," he concluded, "upon -von Kuhne providing something pretty forceful and -daring!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The naval captain whose eyes were still occupied with -the chart of the Solent, lifted his keen gaze. "Something -in the nature of our own adventure at Zeebrugge and -Ostend, do you think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here he turned his red-starred chart face downwards. -On its back were twenty or thirty neatly-pencilled lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That," he said, pushing the chart towards Dacent -Smith, "is my forecast of what is going to happen in this -area during the next forty-eight hours. If your date is -correct, I think my forecast will be pretty well right. -What do you think, General?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Throgmorton's incisive, clean-cut features turned -towards Whiston.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it's a devilish clever piece of work!" answered -General Whiston, generously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dacent Smith's eyes lifted from the pencilled forecast. -His vivid gaze rested for a minute in admiration on -Throgmorton's handsome, well-wrought features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some day, young man," thought he, "you will be -ruler of the King's Navy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pushed back the chart towards the naval officer; -then turned towards John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can go, Treves," he said, "with the General's -permission."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whiston nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John saluted and withdrew from the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Manton passed out into the asphalted courtyard he -met Chief Gunner Ewins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Ewins," he said, "what about your wife's -dangerous illness?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She wasn't ill at all, sir. I can't make it out—I've -just got a letter from her to-day, saying she's as well as -ever she was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, she never sent the wire," explained John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who could have sent it?" said Ewins, looking at -John with puzzled eyes; "it's a silly sort of joke to play -on anybody, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very silly," John admitted. "It looked as if somebody -wanted to get you out of the fort for a day or two. -That's why the Colonel wouldn't grant you leave. He -didn't think you were playing a trick on him. He thought -some one was playing a trick on you. How are your guns, -Ewins?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nicely, sir, thank you," answered the chief gunner. -"But I'm sorry we've missed our nine-inch practice this -week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't miss much by that," John answered. -"You'll shoot as well as ever when the time comes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew how soon the time would come, though -Ewins did not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John descended the steps of the fort, took his bicycle, -and, with due observance of ceremonies, passed through -the great gate that had recently all but intimidated -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour later, John, still pedalling steadily, descended -the winding road into Brooke. At the outskirts of the -village he placed his bicycle against a gate, climbed into a -field, and, by a detour, made his way to the back of -Doctor Voules's house. In the darkness he walked softly -forward under the shadow of the doctor's garden wall -He had made only a few paces when a voice came to him -out of the gloom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's that?" demanded the voice, in a guarded whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Treves," answered John. "Is that you, Watson?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," came the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John drew himself to the top of the garden wall and -looked down upon a corporal in uniform.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anything happened?" John asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered Watson; "three men came to the -house after dark, stayed a little while, and went away -again, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact, half an hour earlier Doctor Voules -and two tall young men had stealthily mounted the wall -and entered the house by the back way. Corporal Watson -had been concealed in the garden and witnessed this -visit, and Voules's and his friends' departure in the same -stealthy manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are evidently trying to give the impression that -the house is uninhabited, sir," the corporal amplified.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had climbed into the garden and was standing -by him, gave a few further instructions as to Voules's -abode, presently mounted his bicycle and rode away. -Three quarters of an hour later, in a small clump of trees -on the heather-clad cliff-top near Freshwater, he spoke -to another soldier. This man, with three others, had -been detailed to watch Cherriton's cottage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The captain's been in his cottage all the evening, -sir," said the man to John, "and the big, fat man's been -with him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having satisfied himself as to the whereabouts of -Cherriton and Manners, John cycled on and entered the -Freshwater Hotel. Here he put through a trunk-call -to Newport. When he had been connected with a -particular number he inquired into the telephone:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Gibb?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," came the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know who is speaking?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Mr. Treves, isn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having satisfied himself that he was in touch with the -gloomy-looking waiter at the Newport Hotel, he put -a discreet inquiry. He had parted with certain Treasury -notes to the benefit of the gloomy waiter. The waiter, -thereafter feeling himself a small but important wheel -in a piece of vast machinery, made himself busy and active -in John's service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is anybody at home, Gibb?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's not been out all day, sir, and went to bed -immediately after dinner. She told her maid that she had -a lot to do to-morrow, and asked to be called at eight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These details were, for the moment, enough to satisfy -John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know where to ring me up, Gibb, if anything -exceptional occurs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, having concluded his duties for that day, -pedalled slowly back to the fort. The night was overcast, -the air close, and as he led his bicycle up the long -white road to the gates, he could hear the waves softly -falling at the foot of the cliffs in the bay below him. -No other sound broke the stillness, and when the outer -sentinel suddenly barred his path and a challenge rang -out on the close air, John was startled out of a mood of -dreams.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He passed the second and the third sentries, a wicket -in the great gate of the fort opened and admitted him, -and, having reported himself to the Colonel, he went -straight to his room. For the better part of that night -his mind occupied itself with the momentous doings of -the morrow. The cloud that had gathered itself about -that end of the island was about to break. What would -happen to himself and others on the morrow he could -not forecast. But one thing he knew—the long, hidden -contest between Voules and Dacent Smith would reach -its culmination. Each man, with his pawns, had -manoeuvred, moved, finessed and counter-moved. The -subtlety of Dacent Smith had been pitted against the -precision and military skill of von Kuhne. What was -to be the end? John did not know, and at that moment -his mind was only secondarily occupied with the point; -he was thinking, not of to-morrow, but of yesterday, of -his interview with Elaine, of his abrupt separation from -her, of his apparent brutality and harshness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wondered at himself, that he, a capable, alert and -non-sentimental young man, an individual who had -withstood the seductive blandishments of Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth, he wondered to find himself deeply and -passionately in love with a girl whose knowledge of artifice -was of the slightest. Elaine's genuine trust in him, her -belief in his integrity, her delight in the improvement -in his character, all helped to enchain John's deepest -affections.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he lay now in the quiet and darkness of his room, -he felt he dared not let his mind dwell upon the future. -He had tricked and duped Elaine, and some day she -would be bound to find him out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What would happen then? What would happen when -she learned the truth?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing for it," John pronounced suddenly -and emphatically. "I must tell her myself—I must -confess the whole thing from the beginning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having arrived at this decision, he saw himself making -the confession, though he could not see what her attitude -would be. He could visualise, always standing between -them as an impassable and sinister barrier, the man -whose identity he had borne for so many months. -Bernard Treves—his </span><em class="italics">alter ego</em><span>, his </span><em class="italics">doppel-gänger</em><span>—had -become what he had probably been from the first—his -evil genius. From the very first he had disliked Treves; -he had later grown to despise him. The man was -contemptible beyond words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this point John took himself resolutely in hand—or, -rather, he thought he took himself resolutely in hand. -What really happened was that he put away thoughts of -Elaine, hiding them courageously and tenderly in the -deeps of his mind, for the sole reason that to think of -her, to think of the hopeless situation between them, -meant nothing but misery and bitterness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At eight o'clock, when John appeared in the little -mess-room, Colonel Hobin was alone at breakfast, at -the head of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Treves," he said, "if your predictions are right, -this is going to be the day of our lives!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I am right, sir," John answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall see," answered the Colonel. "Pass the -marmalade, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John passed the marmalade. He noticed the Colonel's -hand was steady—none of the nervous irritability that -characterised him usually was apparent—and the old -soldier's eyes had taken on a new masterful expression -of command—the countenance of a good captain on the -bridge in face of a great oncoming storm.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxxii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXXII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The portentous day, the twenty-eighth of the month, -passed at Heatherpoint Fort with no untoward incident -whatever. There was a difference, however; there -existed an atmosphere of tense expectancy. Something -was afoot, for doubled sentries held all points of -vantage along the cliff-tops, doubled sentries guarded -the fort gates, and the barbed wire entanglements at -certain other places. All leave had been stopped, and -at midday, when Lieutenant William Parkson asked -for leave for very urgent personal reasons, he was -astonished to find that the Colonel had grown totally -immovable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you would let me go from eight o'clock till ten, sir, -I should be satisfied. I assure you, sir, it is most -important."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was indeed important in Parkson's eyes. But -though rebellion surged in him there was no possible -means of getting out of the fort that night without the -Colonel's pass. Only one person, in fact, left Heatherpoint -Fort that evening. This person happened to be -John Manton. General Whiston uttered final words of -advice as the young man took his departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you are successful, Treves," he said, "you will be -probably back here before the dust-up begins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope so," said John. He saluted and clattered -down the flight of steps to the main gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was still light as he cycled swiftly away along the -white road. A smile curled the corner of his mouth. -The work he was upon was exactly to his liking; there -was something in it of danger, and something of finesse. -When John had cycled for half an hour he looked at his -watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Parkson's appointment with her," he said, "was for -seven o'clock. I wonder how she intended to handle him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He mused upon Parkson, and admitted that the young -man would be as wax in Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's adroit -fingers. He recalled Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's long, -black record, her superlative daring, the manner in which -she had expended her great personal gifts and keen -intelligence in the service of the enemy. He thought of -the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>—of the two hundred fine lives sacrificed upon -her information. And at the thought his lips tightened, -his smile vanished, and the face that Dacent Smith -always knew as good-humoured and pleasant to look -upon, grew hard and forbidding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Darkness had fallen by the time John turned off the -Newport road towards Brooke. He did not light his -lamp, however, but this time rode straight through the -village and alighted at Dr. Voules's house. The -doctor's residence was completely dark. No light shone -from any of the windows. John advanced to the door -and placed his fingers on the bell. He rang twice, but -no answer came to him, no sound of footfall reached him -from the interior of the house. Then, noticing that the -door was slightly ajar, as if left purposely, he entered -the hall, and in complete darkness walked along towards -the room at the end of the passage, which he remembered -as Voules's dining-room. He had advanced but ten -paces when a door opened quietly in the darkness, and -a low voice came to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Billy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was silent for a moment. He had braced -himself for an intensely violent scene. Now, in a -flash, he realised that there were new and exciting -possibilities. Nevertheless, caution animated his entire -conduct.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In regard to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth he did not know -that she had discovered his association with Dacent -Smith; he was not aware of the lady's sentiments of -bitter antagonism, of virulent hatred towards himself. -He was to learn these things later. But at the moment -he felt there was little danger of stepping into a trap. -The beautiful woman whispering to him from the darkness -awaited William Parkson, not Bernard Treves or John -Manton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Billy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice came to him again in a tense whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered John in a tone low as her own. She -drew wider the door of Voules's dining-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told you to come straight in, Billy. Why did you -ring the bell?" she admonished him, lifting her voice to -a more ordinary tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know; I forgot," answered John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in——" Her hand groped forward and took -his. She drew him into the heavily-curtained darkness -of the dining-room and closed the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We mustn't light up till eight o'clock, Billy," she -whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a fad of mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she put her face close to his; she let her smooth, -firm hand glide about his shoulder as she drew his face -down. She kissed him firmly on the lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If John had been easy to deceive, that kiss would have -deceived him. He would have believed absolutely and -implicitly that its fervour and passion were genuine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought," she whispered, her cheek close to his, -"that you would not be afraid of the darkness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I won't be afraid," responded John in her ear. -He could have laughed—the situation was throbbing -with exhilarating possibilities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was afraid you would be late, or wouldn't be able -to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You knew I'd come," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He groped his way towards the hearth, holding her -hand in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you sit down?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You sit down." She forced him into Dr. Voules's -comfortable chair, then seated herself on its arm, and -slowly smoothed his hair with her hand. She lowered -her face and pressed it to his. Her rounded cheek was -firm, cool and satin smooth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can stay with me quite, quite a long time," she -whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," mumbled John; "that's awfully good of -you." He squeezed her hand. He could understand -what would have happened to Parkson at that moment—Parkson -already enamoured, flattered to think of a -woman of her social position and extraordinary beauty -flinging herself at his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will they miss you at the fort to-night, little Billy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know that they'll miss me particularly," -said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but you're so—so important there. Did you -find it difficult to get away, Billy mine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so very," John answered; "all the same, I -haven't much time—I've only managed to get two -hours' leave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She drew in her breath sharply, then suddenly flung -out both arms and drew him towards her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Billy, Billy!" she protested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John instantly made mental note that she had in her -mind a certain time during which she intended to detain -him there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you can't love me," she breathed ardently. -"You said you'd stay—a long time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three-quarters of an hour is every minute I can stay," -John said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but it won't matter if you're just a tiny, tiny -bit late—just once in a lifetime! You don't know how -difficult it is for me, Billy. I have risked everything for -you! I should be ruined utterly if it was discovered -that I gave you this </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span> here at this time of night.... -You must stay, Billy, until I'm ready to let you go; -it will make it easier for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see that," protested John. "You can slip away——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no; don't ask questions—don't say that! If -you only knew how difficult it was. You won't bother -me with questions, will you dear, dear Billy? And -you'll be nice to me and let me get you something to -drink. You bad boy," she said, after a moment's pause, -"I don't believe you realise the honour I am conferring -on you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh I do—I am fully aware of it," answered John. -She had risen from the arm of the chair, and had gone to -the window. John heard the creak of the window blind -as she drew it up upon the semi-darkness of the garden. -For an instant he was startled, wondering if her -movement portended some sort of signal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the blind ascended the complete darkness of the -room sped away. He could now make out the rich -shadows of her hair, and something of the outline of her -fine features. Her hands in contrast with the black -widow's weeds, looked unusually white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you were fond of the darkness?" questioned John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am, silly Billy." John guessed that she was wasting -a coquettish smile upon the encumbering gloom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had gone to the sideboard, which was in shadow -at the far end of the room and returning now to the middle -table, placed upon it glasses, a soda syphon, and a whisky -bottle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must give you just a little peg!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John heard the gurgle of liquid, and the "squirt" of a -syphon. A moment later Mrs. Beecher Monmouth came -across the room, put a glass in his hand, and lightly kissed -his ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish it was a little lighter," she whispered in a -cooing fashion that was peculiar with her, "then I could -see my pretty boy's face."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you did see your pretty boy's face," thought John, -"you'd get the shock of your life!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the whisky glass from her fingers. Silence -lay between them for a moment, then Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth spoke again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Drink," she whispered urgently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had been holding his glass in his left hand, -shifted it to his right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, here's to you," he said, lifting the glass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you drunk it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What else do you think?" inquired John, and laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact he had not drunk it, for before -raising the glass he had dexterously poured its contents -upon the carpet. Her trick was too obvious. Parkson, -blinded, enamoured by love, might have fallen into the -trap, but he, John, knew his antagonist in this singular -duel which was taking place in the semi-darkness. He -came well armed with a knowledge of her character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Minutes passed, during which Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -held him enchained, as she believed, by her finished -coquetry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had been probing about in his mind, hoping -that she might divulge something useful, rose at last and -stretched his legs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was again at the window. He -noticed that several times during the last quarter of an -hour she had drifted there, as if with some intent and -watchful purpose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do you keep going to the window?" he asked, -suddenly and abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I like to look out at the night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's nothing much to see," returned John. "It's -clouded over again, and the air is close enough to stifle -one!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the gloom John saw her put up her hands to her -throat. "It is enough to stifle one," she breathed, -slowly and intensely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then John knew that big things were afoot, that she -was waiting, strung up tensely to more than concert pitch. -He put up his hand, pushed up the catch of the window, -and opened it quietly upon the sultry night. A faint -wind stirred, rustling the leaves. There was silence for -a minute, then Mrs. Beecher Monmouth seemed to -remember the role she was playing, slid her fingers into -his and looked up into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Billy," she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And at that moment a sudden thunderous and heavily-resonant -boom rent the stillness of the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John knew it in an instant as the detonation of a heavy -gun. The door of the room creaked under the heavy -vibration, the casements of the window rattled, and a -red smear of light blazed against the low clouds and -vanished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had turned her face to the -window. For an instant John saw it, tense and ecstatic -in the glare of light—then darkness fell again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And suddenly Mrs. Beecher Monmouth stood away in -the dark room. The passionate sibilance of her whisper -smote John's ears, like that of a snake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At last! At last! ... Oh, you can go now, Billy, -Mr. Parkson. Yes—go, or stay! It matters not!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it does matter," said John, "a deuce of a lot!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as he spoke the room was shaken with the detonation -of a heavy gun—was again lit up with a red light. -A second and a third gun was fired—one sound mingling -with the other in tremendous crashing reverberation. -And at each report a red glow filled the room, searching -out the darkness in its most distant corners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had turned towards John—in -the leaping red light, amid the roar of artillery, her -eyes pinioned themselves upon his. She drew nearer—peering, -as it were, with all her senses, her hands clenched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their faces were close together when a red glare -revealed his features in every lineament. He was smiling, -looking down upon her with easy nonchalance. Even in -the fleeting light John caught the swift distortion of her -features. She made a movement in the darkness——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's entire life of daring -adventure, in all her vicissitudinous career, never had such -a blow stricken her as that moment. She had expected -to see the good-humoured and somewhat stupid countenance -of Parkson, and instead, she had seen John. She -had been outwitted by the enemy whom of all others she -hated most. From the very first this pleasant looking, -resourceful, cool young man had outmanoeuvred her. -What had happened to Parkson, and how John had -managed to substitute himself for that enmeshed young -man, she could not guess. She was conscious only that -in the darkness her mortal enemy had received her -caresses, and laughed in his sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her tryst had been with Lieutenant Parkson, and by -a manoeuvre that was a mystery to her this other had -substituted himself....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John heard her move softly in the darkness, and draw -in a low, sibilant breath. He was taking no chances, -however, and had already stepped cautiously behind the -big dining table. Here he paused for a moment, listening, -then swiftly struck a match. In the orange glow -of the light he saw Mrs. Monmouth's face of undeniable -beauty contorted with fury. As the match flared and -John put out his hand to light the lamp which was on the -table, she made a strong effort to control her features. -She was a woman who seldom remained long at a -disadvantage. Every move in the whole gamut of feminine -emotion seemed to be at her command. There had been -a momentary stillness; now the roar of heavy artillery -thundered again and again. The red glow from the -window filled the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A false expression of smiling irony crossed Mrs. Monmouth's -features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So, Mr. Treves, you have been exercising your -cleverness again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What I did was all in the day's work," John began; -then he stepped swiftly towards the end of the table and -barred the way to a certain chair upon which her long -black coat had been thrown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, don't go to your coat," he politely admonished -her. "I am afraid I don't trust you!" He knew that -ladies of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's temperament and -activities are apt to carry lethal weapons, and are not -scrupulous in the use of the same. She had already -made an attempt upon him with what he shrewdly and -correctly guessed to be drugged whisky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How subtle and resourceful you are!" laughed -Mrs. Monmouth. She turned and strolled with an air of -indifference towards the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was wondering what her next move would be. -He had already made up his mind as to his own next -move, when Mrs. Beecher Monmouth strode to the table, -and, in a flashing change of mood, smote it sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think yourself extraordinarily clever, Mr. Treves!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! not at all!" protested John. He really did -not think himself clever, but he was satisfied with the -present position as he found it. He had taken her coat, -and was holding it over his arm. There was no weapon -in its pockets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A roar of artillery again filled the room. Mrs. Beecher -Monmouth's eyes blazed in exaltation and excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you hear those guns?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can hear scarcely anything else!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beecher Monmouth's widow paused, looking him over, -excoriating him with her fine eyes; then went on slowly -and intensely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Mr. Treves, perhaps it will surprise you and -your friends to know that we have outwitted you from -the beginning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't quite get your meaning," said John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She lifted her head and laughed aloud in his face. Her -mask was off. She let herself go. She swept her arm -toward the darkness of the night, then looked at him -with the eyes of a fiend. "Those guns you hear now -mean that we are making our great attack." Her voice -rose shrilly; her scarlet lips writhed. She was truly -possessed at that moment. "For all your espionage and -cunning we shall be able to make our way into Portsmouth. -We shall deliver a blow from which you will not -easily recover. Your ships——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John moved to the end of the table and motioned -towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said he, "that is very interesting, no -doubt, but I think it is time we were going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fury beyond the table paid no heed. With both -hands on its surface she thrust her chin towards him and -spat out her words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Every fort on this coast has been silenced by our -finesse!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, listening to the roar of the guns, was unperturbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was a pretty heavy one," he remarked, as -the room reverberated again to the renewed crash of -artillery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our guns, you fool!" Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -lifted her voice to a scream. "Our guns—German guns!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John stared at her. He had never seen anything like -the tornado of passion that was sweeping through her. -He listened, enthralled, against his will. Nevertheless, -he was master of the scene. She hated him—loathed -him—because he had tricked her. She had expended -charm, she had enveloped him in the sunshine of her -beauty to no end. Her vanity was outraged. He had -enjoyed her caresses and laughed in his sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The boom——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about the boom?" John asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From Ponsonby Lighthouse to Windsor Fort the -boom is not down to-night. Think of that. Your -searchlights—where are they? Dark—dark—every one -of them." She dropped her voice suddenly in a -measured, triumphant whisper, "and our Unter-see boats -are creeping in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even now she was beautiful, but there was something -animal-like in the distortion of her mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where, precisely, are your U-boats creeping into?" -inquired John calmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Into—into Portsmouth." She mouthed the name -of the great harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You thought to outwit us, and we outwit you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John bowed. "I have only your word for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She paid no heed and went on. "So you see, Mr. Treves, -what you get in wasting your time on me—a woman!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His obstinate coolness maddened her, and in a wild -gust of rage she crashed her fist on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You fool! You fool! You sheep's head!" she -announced, elegantly. She paused a moment, breathing -heavily, then sweeping round the table, snatched her -coat from his arm and strode towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no hurry, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She halted and gave him a glance that would have -turned Parkson to stone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" she demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean that our interview is not at an end!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The menace of her eyes glittered upon him. If her -strength of body had been equal to it at that moment, she -would have leapt forward and strangled him with her -bare hands. Knowledge of her own peril, of the Nemesis -that was sweeping upon her, had not yet entered her -disordered mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John made—in pursuance of his prearranged plan of -action—no effort to stay her as she went towards the -door. But as Mrs. Beecher Monmouth paused and cast -a final look at him, a sudden doubt crept into her eyes. -For John had gone to the window. He appeared no -longer to be occupied with her. His back was towards -her, and presently he lifted a whistle to his lips and blew -two short, shrill blasts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A transformation passed over Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's -face that was startling. The colour flowed from -her cheeks. Her lips seemed suddenly to become bloodless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do you do that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned upon her slowly. There was no pity in -his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I did it," he answered, grimly, "I was thinking -of the </span><em class="italics">Malta</em><span>, and two hundred fine fellows who died -at your hands. I am thinking now of other things—of -the </span><em class="italics">Polidor</em><span> and her scores of non-combatant passengers -who were drowned by your machinations.... You -have had a long run for your money, but at last——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped—a sound came to him, a tramp of heavy -booted men advancing in the passage. Some one pushed -open the door, and a corporal—a tall, grim-looking -fellow—appeared on the threshold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Davis?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John spoke over Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's head to the -man beyond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is the lady, Davis!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will take her at once. Put her in a car and -drive her to Newport to-night. I have already -communicated with the Chief Constable, who has made -arrangements to receive her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned his eyes once more, and for the last time in -life, on the beautiful woman in the doorway.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxxiii"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXXIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Hallo—what's that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A red glare of light saturated the low hanging clouds -and suddenly vanished. Close, windless air vibrated -under the detonation of heavy artillery. A Sergeant, -who had been concealed in the shelter of a stone wall -which ran round Captain Cherriton's cottage, turned to -the man at his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What d'you reckon it is, Nobby?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be night practice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not it," answered the Sergeant, "that's the -'nine-inch' at Heatherpoint, with a full charge!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the words left his lips a second crashing roar -reverberated from the fort. Then, almost before Sergeant -Watson could further comment upon the fact, a sound -like rapid beating of a tom-tom came to them. Busy, -drum-like notes, some deep and long-drawn, as if coming -from the bowels of the earth, some sharp, short, and -angry, took up the refrain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo!" exclaimed Watson, amazed, "they're all -at it. There's something up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stared at the sky, thence out to sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo, where's all our searchlights?" exclaimed Nobby.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's just what I was going to ask you," Watson -answered; then instantly dropped down behind the wall, -pulling his companion with him. Watson had seen a -figure approaching from the road. The stranger wore -mufti and a soft felt hat, and as he came stumbling and -hurrying through the grass, leaping artillery flashes -momentarily lifted him into view, and again plunged him -into utter darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Watson, with Nobby and two other men, had, -under John's directions, kept a three-days' watch on -Cherriton's cottage. At the present moment Cherriton -himself was alone in the low, single-storied building which, -from two workmen's dwellings, had been converted into -an artistic residence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Watson waited. And presently, in the silence between -the roll of drumfire at the western end of the island, he -could hear the fall of footsteps, and presently, through -the screen of bushes, and in the light of gunfire he made -out the figure of a tall young man, whose face for a -moment looked familiar to him, then caused him to pull -Nobby by the arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is it, Nobby?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The new-comer had reached Cherriton's gate and was -hurrying into the little garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, it's Lieutenant Treves!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's he doing out of uniform?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," answered Nobby. "It's him right -enough. Look again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He looks as if he'd had the fright of his life—I've -never seen him look like that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor me, neither," answered Nobby, eyeing the figure -hurrying towards Cherriton's door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both men watched the visitor disappear into the -cottage, then discussed the matter in low tones. There -was something that puzzled them about Treves's visit -to Captain Cherriton—there was something that to -Sergeant Watson's intelligent mind seemed altogether -wrong about that visit, and yet he could not tell what.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton had been at the back window of his cottage -peering out since the heavy gunfire began, and a look of -triumph animated his pallid, hollow-cheeked countenance. -He was startled at length by a low, feverish rapping at -the cottage door. He paused a moment in thought -before answering, then shifted a Mauser pistol from his -hip pocket to the left hand pocket of his coat. He was -a left-handed man, a fact which at certain moments of -crisis was apt to redound to his advantage. With a due -amount of caution he drew open the door, and the man -from the threshold strode in upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Cherriton's eyes fell upon the stranger in the candle -light the lines of his mouth altered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, it's you, Treves—this is a surprise!" he -exclaimed. He gripped the young man's hand and drew -him forward into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bernard Treves, pale, haggard, swept the room with -his restless glance. His likeness to John Manton was -striking even now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you got anybody here?" he asked quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's Manners?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He isn't here," answered Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is he?" Treves came forward and laid a -hand on the other's arm. "I must see Manners."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton looked at him with sudden malice. He felt -that this man who had tricked and betrayed them from -the beginning, was still pursuing his deep game. -However, they were playing now upon even terms. -Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's information had opened wide his -eyes. Moreover, a mandate had been issued. General -von Kuhne had spoken....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sickly smile crossed the visitor's pallid, handsome -countenance. "It's no good trying to keep it quiet," -he said; "but I must have cocaine. It's a matter of -life and death with me. Look at my hands!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He held out his hands which shook visibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind saying it," he went on; "but I've been -pretty nearly over the brink two or three times lately. -Yesterday I tried every chemist's shop in Ryde and -Newport, but I couldn't get anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. Cherriton -was regarding him closely, puzzled at the change in him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You managed to get along without it for a long -time," retorted Cherriton, looking at him coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had to—there was nothing else for it. That damned -nursing home——" Suddenly he put out his hand and -laid it on the German's arm. "Where's Manners, for -God's sake tell me—tell me? I must have some——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he became aware of a narrowing of the other's -gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't do it; it makes my blood run cold," Treves -protested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinking of your drug habit—how conveniently -it comes and goes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't sneer at me, for God's sake," pleaded Treves. -"I'm desperate." He walked the floor in a state of -nervous tension, which would have been pitiable to -witness, had there been in Cherriton any spirit of mercy. -"It seems there's been a law passed forbidding -chemists—you can't get cocaine anywhere," he jerked out, -hopelessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton's dark gaze was again upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't give you cocaine, Treves," he said, "but if -you come into my bedroom there, I'll give you something -else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves clutched his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Morphia," answered Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led the way into a low-ceilinged bedroom at the end -of the cottage, carrying the candle from the parlour table -as he went. He placed the light on the dressing table -near the window, took a key from his pocket, and opened -a drawer in the only chest of drawers in the small room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves, watching him with impatient eyes, moistened -his lips and waited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton searched in the drawer and drew out a -syringe and a small bottle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here," he said to Treves, "sit over on the chair -near the dressing table."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves greedily eyed the syringe, and obediently -seated himself with his back to the little mirror. The -candle on the white dimity cloth of the dressing table -threw its light full upon him. He watched Cherriton fill -the syringe with morphia, and almost clutched it from -his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait," said the German, holding him off, "you shall -have it full."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks—thanks—thanks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Treves watched him as a famished dog watches a bone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't know what I've suffered, Cherriton—that -nursing home, St. Neot's, curse it—it's been hell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are so clever, Treves, I wonder you didn't get -cocaine before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God, if you knew how I've tried."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton was standing about a yard away from Treves, -with his big chin thrust forward. The expression of his -face at that moment would have shot terror into his -visitor's heart, if he had lifted his eyes. But Treves was -busy. He was pulling back his sleeve, and in another -instant he had dug the needle into the flesh of his -forearm. His lips tightened as he forced the morphia into -his blood. Then he slowly raised his head, a look of -ecstatic happiness glowed in his eyes; he drew a deep -sigh of contentment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A-h-h," he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Cherriton, who had been standing still as a statue, -still as death, moved. The veiled light in his eyes blazed -into murder. With swiftness and stealth he whipped -the Mauser from his pocket, aimed and fired. His -shot passed through Treves's heart.... Before the -reverberation had died, he fired into Treves's body a -second time, and this time so near was he that the blaze -scorched his victim's waistcoat. He had made assurance -doubly sure, and his next quick move was to lean forward, -blow out the candle, drop his pistol near the body, that -had fallen heavily, and fling open the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two minutes later he was speeding swiftly across -the yard at the back of the cottage. As he ran a -gun-flash from Heatherpoint lifted the darkness for a -moment, and again he was enveloped in the surrounding -gloom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before Sergeant Watson and his three men could reach -the door of the cottage, Cherriton had vanished into a -clump of trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's something wrong!" said Watson. "I'm -going in." He took Nobby with him, hurried along the -path, and knocked at Cherriton's portal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No answer came. He thrust open the door and found -the living-room in darkness; he struck a match, lit a -candle from the mantelshelf, and held it aloft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo, there's nobody here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door of the bedroom was open, and the draught—a -puff of close air—from the open window beyond -suddenly blew shut the front door with a crash.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sergeant Watson was a man of steady nerve, but he -did not like the crash, neither did he like the silence, the -heavy, brooding silence. Nevertheless, he lifted his -voice valiantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there anybody there?" he called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He could hear the curtain rings faintly rattling in the -bedroom, but no answer came to him. Then with the -candle in his hand and followed by Nobby, gripping his -rifle, he went into Cherriton's bedroom. On the floor -beyond the end of Cherriton's bed, near the dressing -table, they could see a foot and the lower part of Treves's -trouser leg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" exclaimed Watson, hurrying forward -with a fleeting glance at the open window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The figure lying near the dressing table with a revolver -near it, and a morphia syringe a little distance away, -was huddled and motionless.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Three minutes later, Watson, Nobby and two other men -stood in an open space on the downs, forty yards before -Cherriton's cottage. Watson was busy rearing a tripod -stand about five feet in height. When the tripod was -ready Nobby handed him a lantern, which was -dexterously screwed upon its apex. He struck a match, -lit the lantern and flicked open a shutter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stand back out of the line of light," he cried to one -of his men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then with little scraping clicks of the lantern shutter, -the single eye of light turned westward, he began to spell -out a message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three times he gave his opening call before receiving an -answer by signal lantern from behind the fort at Freshwater. -Having achieved connection he patiently spelt -out the following message:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Report to officer in command Heatherpoint."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you?" came the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Watson, emergency light number 6."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lieutenant Treves been murdered. Lying dead -Heather Cottage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lantern at Freshwater took the message, and -before signalling on said, "Repeat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Watson, with a grim face, repeated the message and -added:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shot by Captain Cherriton. Murderer escaped, -running north by east."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-xxxiv"><span class="large">CHAPTER XXXIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John having disposed of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth -returned to Heatherpoint Fort. Within the fort gates the -ground quivered and vibrated. Far below him the -Solent was alive with the sweeping beams of -Throgmorton's cunning emergency lights. John could see -flashes of fire from Ponsonby Point, from Scoles Head, and -from a new secret battery beyond Windsor Fort. His -time was emphatically not his own, he had received -orders to leave the fort on a new mission. Within -five minutes he had passed the rear defences and the -barbed wire of the fort, and was out upon the downs. -He sprinted forward over the short springing turf, and -soon came to the cliff edge and the narrow path that -descended the chalk to South Bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he reached the cliff edge and looked down an -amazing panorama smote his eyes. Dover lights—tremendous, -blinding blue-white illuminations—floated -upon the surface of the water shedding forth almost -painful rays of light. The yellow of the sand in the little -bay became a ghost-like floor in this radiance. Sinclair, -he knew, was down there busy at his telephone, but it -was not Sinclair nor the drama of the scene that occupied -his thoughts; he was thinking not of them, but of a -slip of paper Throgmorton had handed him bearing the -message of his own death, and of Throgmorton's words, -"Somebody was murdered."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," thought John, "somebody who was mistaken for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His mind projected itself upon the scene in Cherriton's -cottage, and the thing he had suspected from the very -first instant revealed itself fully. Bernard Treves had -escaped in his second effort to free himself from his -enforced detention at St. Neot's, and, of course, the first -thing he had done was to search out the whereabouts of -Cherriton and Manners in order to obtain the drugs that -were a passion with him. He had gone to the cottage, -Cherriton had received him, and had clearly shot him in -cold blood....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned his mind away from the possibilities -Treves's death had created for himself. After all, he was -sorry. Treves's broken and enfeebled will had been too -much for the young man to contend against. He had -failed—death had come upon him suddenly and terribly, -but perhaps, after all, it was for the best....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His thoughts turned to Colonel Treves.... As was -to be expected, and inevitably the delicately beautiful -vision of Elaine rose before him.... Her life of bondage -was at an end.... Then John drew himself up and -took himself severely to task. These thoughts were not -for him. In this hour of drama, of tragedy, he must -not let his thoughts dwell upon her. There were decencies, -and he was a man of honour; nevertheless, in the depths -of his heart, something moved, a dim obliterated ray of -hope flickered into life....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To the music of the guns he continued his descent of -the chalk path. Where the damp penetrated it was -slippery beneath his feet, nevertheless he went quickly -with steps that must have been noiseless. The path -reached the beach some distance away from the scene of -activity, of which Sinclair was the centre. And as John -came within thirty or forty feet of the shore, he saw -below him, at the bend of the path, a man crouching. -The man was huddled in a sheltered corner, intent upon -some occupation invisible to John, who halted and -looked down upon him with some curiosity. The silent -figure was in khaki, and his shoulder and half his cap -were visible. He was deeply absorbed, and John was able -to go forward and descend two or three turns of the path -without being observed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently, walking softly on the narrow path in the -cliff's face, he came full into view of the stranger, whose -presence was concealed by the projection of a cliff from -the pitiless Dover flares.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man was Captain Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was not in the least surprised to find his able and -resourceful enemy crouching down working a flashlight -towards a portion of the sea cut off from the fort -lights.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manton knew that the hour of destiny had arrived. -The thought came to him that Cherriton's hands were -stained with blood, that not an hour ago he had——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved forward a pace, his face grim and set. Cherriton, -still crouching, heard him, and turned, but in the -gloom of that sheltered place he did not see clearly. -Quick as thought, however, he turned his electric torch -and flashed it full upon John's face. In the circle of -incandescent light he saw something that caused him to -choke with horror—that something was the face and the -living eyes of the man he had murdered an hour ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sight was too much for him, the light fell from his -fingers. John, guessing what had happened, resolved -to give him no chance of discovery. With a shout he -leapt forward and flung his arms about him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half in terror, half in growing knowledge that he had -to deal with a living and determined enemy, Cherriton -struggled like a maniac. Each man put forth his entire -strength. John sought to get his hands round the -German's throat. Together they rocked, bumped, and -swayed, and, finally, together they fell, tumbling and -thumping to the sand, fifteen feet below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a minute each man lay still, stunned by the -impact of the fall. Then John, first to recover, creeping -on hands and knees, approached Cherriton and fell upon -him again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm done," breathed the German, "get off me...." There -was a truce for some minutes after that, during -which John sat with a Mauser in his hand, and recovered -himself fully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cherriton, who had been lying on his back in the sand, -turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you?" he asked, staring with strained eyes -into John's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mystery was beyond him. Were there two -Bernard Treves? He had killed, or as he would have -put it, he had legitimately executed Bernard Treves in -the cottage less than two hours ago. So far all was clear -to him. But this other man, this replica and simulacrum -of Treves, who was he? He was Treves, and he was not -Treves. He continued to stare and his mystification -deepened. John, feeling that the moment for -explanation had come, came to his aid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are recalling that you killed me in your cottage -less than two hours ago?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," began Cherriton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All along," went on John, "you and your colleagues -have been mistaken in me. I have played the part of -Bernard Treves with some success, but my real name -happens to be John Manton."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Dawn came, and with it victory for the defenders of -the Solent. In the last moment von Kuhne's plans had -gone astray. His submarines which had intended to cause -havoc among the multitude of shipping at Portsmouth -had indeed passed the boom, only to meet destruction -beyond. Eight submarines went to the credit of the -R.G.A. and the Navy that night; eighty German marines -were captured on the little shore of South Bay. And now, -in the fort mess-room that had known so much of drama -during the last few months, Colonel Hobin occupied his -chair at the head of the table. Beside him was seated -Throgmorton, the Flag-Lieutenant. Commander Greaves -and John Manton were also present, grouped at the end -of the room, near the window whence the dawn crept in. -At the far end of the room stood Ewins, something of a -hero that morning, but the time for compliment had not -yet arrived.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring them in, Ewins," commanded Hobin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ewins saluted and clattered away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later he returned with a squad of men -who waited in the little passage outside. And Ewins -ushered into the mess-room Captain Cherriton, still in -British uniform. With him was the tall German naval -lieutenant John had some time ago seen at Voules's house -at Brooke. The last prisoner to enter the room was -Voules himself, the General von Kuhne who had so -industriously instituted the attack which had met with -disaster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Hobin put a few questions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am an officer of the German Navy," said the tall -lieutenant. "I demand all the privileges of an -honourable prisoner of war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," intervened Throgmorton, "in your case -there is no question of the death penalty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I, too, am an officer," began Voules in his rasping -voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid the fact," said Colonel Hobin, "that you -neglected the formality of wearing uniform in your attack -upon us will tell somewhat severely against you. All I -want this morning," he concluded, "is that you should -each admit your identity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three Germans had no objection to this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the prisoners had been removed Hobin and then -Throgmorton gripped John by the hand—in fact, -everybody in the room shook hands in the grey of the dawn -that morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the luck in the world was ours, Treves," said -Throgmorton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Manton," John reminded him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, of course—I had quite forgotten that."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John's life story was only just beginning—the -recovery of his own name marked an epoch. Summer -went and autumn came; the sun of Peace rose over the -horizon. Letters at first somewhat formal, but later -growing in cordiality, passed between himself and Elaine. -Then, at last, on a certain autumn day—a red-letter day -for John—he received an epistle in Colonel Treves's shaking -hand. "</span><em class="italics">My dear boy,</em><span>" ran the Colonel's letter, "</span><em class="italics">I want -you to come and visit me. We have been friends a long -time—you have played your part well and truly. That -which my poor boy failed to do, you have done in his name. -You have done credit to my house and to the name of Treves. -I am well again now, and shall welcome you with all my -heart.</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John did not know how it was, but a film came before -his eyes as he finished reading the old Colonel's letter. -And on the Saturday following, when he drove up to the -Colonel's house in a hired motor, from Freshwater, the -sun was setting over the Solent and yellow leaves were -falling in the long drive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gates drew open the front door of the mansion before -John alighted and conducted him straight to the Colonel, -in the library. The old man, who had been standing in -the window expecting his arrival, came across the room -and gripped his hand. He looked into John's face, then -smiled. There was conviction in his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said. "You're a Treves in everything -except name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was much to talk about. In the first place the -Colonel spoke of Elaine always as his daughter-in-law. -She had completely won his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This gives me a new lease of life, my boy," he said to -John. Then the smile that was so attractive in him lit -up his face. "And when that lease is run out she shall -have all that is mine just as she would have had if my -boy had lived." The Colonel laid his hand on John's -shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, my boy," he said, "your attention's wandering, -it isn't me you want to hear talking, so I'll take myself -off now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out of the room, and John, walking to the -window, looked for a moment upon the autumn scene -outside. Then a sound came to him, and he turned to -see Elaine, radiant yet doubtful, and strangely -shy—looking like spring in autumn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment John was still; then he hurried across -the room and took her hands in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elaine," he whispered, "is everything forgotten and -forgiven?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elaine lifted her eyes to his. She was ten times more -beautiful at that moment than the image he had treasured -in his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing to forget, and nothing to forgive, -John," she said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John drew in a deep breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You love me, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again John drew in a deep breath, this time of -complete happiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank goodness," he said—"so that's all right!" Then, -without more ado, he swept her into his arms. -"I'm going to make mad love to you until seven o'clock," -he announced masterfully.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Printed in Great Britain by Wyman & Sons Ltd., London and Reading</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>BERNARD TREVE'S BOOTS</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42459"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42459</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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