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diff --git a/old/55077-h/55077-h.htm b/old/55077-h/55077-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index e725d87..0000000 --- a/old/55077-h/55077-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15738 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Yellow Dove, by George Gibbs</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -/* DACSoft styles */ - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -/* General headers */ -h1,h3,h4 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -/* Chapter headers */ -h2 { - text-align: center; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5em; -} - -/* Indented paragraph */ -p { - margin-top: .51em; - margin-bottom: .49em; - text-align: justify; - text-indent: 1em; -} - -/* Unindented paragraph */ -.noi { text-indent: 0em; 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- text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Title page borders and content. */ -.title { - font-size: 1.75em; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.author { - font-size: 1.25em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.works { - font-size: .75em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Advertisement formatting. */ -.adtitle { - font-size: 1.5em; - font-weight: bold; - clear: both; -} - -.adauthor { - font-size: 1.25em; - clear: both; -} - -/* Hanging indent. */ -.hang { - text-indent: -2em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - - h2.pg { line-height: 1em; } - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Yellow Dove, by George Gibbs, Illustrated -by George Gibbs</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: The Yellow Dove</p> -<p>Author: George Gibbs</p> -<p>Release Date: July 9, 2017 [eBook #55077]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW DOVE***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by Donald Cummings<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/yellowdove00gibbiala"> - https://archive.org/details/yellowdove00gibbiala</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 542px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="542" height="800" alt="cover" title="cover" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic">THE YELLOW DOVE</p> - - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"> -<a id="image01"> - <img src="images/image01.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_47">“His blond hair disheveled, his shoulders -coatless, Cyril emerged.”</a></div> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h1>THE<br /> -YELLOW DOVE</h1> - -<p class="p2 noic">BY</p> - -<p class="noi author">GEORGE GIBBS</p> - -<p class="p4 noi works">ILLUSTRATED<br /> -BY THE AUTHOR</p> - -<div class="pad4"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 72px;"> -<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="72" height="71" alt="logo" title="logo" /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noic">NEW YORK<br /> -<span class="author">GROSSET & DUNLAP</span><br /> -PUBLISHERS</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic smcap">Copyright, 1915,<br /> -By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</p> - - -<p class="p6 noic">Printed in the United States of America</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> -<col style="width: 15%;" /> -<col style="width: 70%;" /> -<col style="width: 15%;" /> -<tr> - <th class="smfontr">CHAPTER</th> - <th class="tdl"> </th> - <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt"> </td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#PRELUDE">Prelude</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">I.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Sheltered People</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">5</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">II.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">The Undercurrent</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">17</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">III.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Rice-Papers</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">31</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">IV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Dangerous Secrets</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">45</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">V.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">The Pursuit Continues</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">55</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">Rizzio Takes Charge</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">68</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">An Intruder</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">83</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Evidence</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">96</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">IX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">The Viking’s Tower</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">108</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">X.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">The Yellow Dove</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">121</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Von Stromberg</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">131</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Hammersley Explains</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">145</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Unwilling Guest</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">157</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Von Stromberg Catechises</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">172</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">The Inquisition</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">188</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">The General Plays to Win</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">206</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Lindberg</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">221</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">Success</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">243</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XIX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">The Cave on the Thorwald</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">260</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">The Fight in the Cavern</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">275</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Hare and Hounds</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">289</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">From the Heights</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">306</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">Headquarters</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">320</td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> -<col style="width: 80%;" /> -<col style="width: 20%;" /> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image01">“His blond hair disheveled, his shoulders -coatless, Cyril emerged.”</a></td> - <td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"> </td> - <td class="smfontr">FACING PAGE</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image02">“‘Not that,’ he whispered hoarsely, ‘for -God’s sake—not that.’”</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">80</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image03">“Her lips ... were whispering words that -she hoped could follow him into the distance.”</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">128</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image04">“The truth, and he becomes an honorable -prisoner of war. Silence, and he is shot tomorrow. Speak.”</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">218</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - - -<p class="noi title">THE YELLOW DOVE</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="PRELUDE" id="PRELUDE">PRELUDE</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Rifts of sullen gray in the dirty veil of vapor -beyond the reaches of dunes, where the sea -in long lines of white, like the ghostly hosts -of lost regiments, clamored along the sand....</p> - -<p>A soughing wind, a shrieking of sea-birds, audible -in pauses between the faraway crackle of rifle-fire and -the deep reverberations of artillery—familiar music -to ears trained by long listening. A shrill scream of -flying shrapnel, a distant crash and then a tense -hush....</p> - -<p>Silence—nearly, but not quite. A sound so small -as to be almost lost in the echoes of the clamor, an -impact upon the air like the tapping of the wings of -an insect against one’s ear-drum, a persistent staccato -note which no other noise could still, borne with -curious distinctness upon some aërial current of the -fog bank.</p> - -<p>And yet this tiny sound had a strange effect upon -the desolate scene, for in a moment, as if they had -been sown with dragon’s teeth, the sand dunes suddenly -vomited forth armed men who ran hither and -thither, their hands to their ears, peering aloft as -though trying to pierce the mystery of the skies.</p> - -<p>“The blighter! It’s ’<em>im</em> agayn.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p>“<em>’Im! ’Oo’s ’im</em>, I’d like to arsk?”</p> - -<p>“Stow yer jaw, cawn’t yer <em>’ear</em>? Ole Yaller-belly, -agayn.”</p> - -<p>The sounds were now clearly audible and to the -south a series of rapid detonations shivered the air.</p> - -<p>“There goes ‘Johnny look in the air.’ Cawn’t get -’im, though. ’Strewth! ’E’s a cool one—<em>’e</em> is!”</p> - -<p>A hoarse order rang out from the trenches behind -them—and the men ran for cover. The fog lifted a -little and a shaft of light touched the leaden gray of -the sea like the sheen on a dirty gun-barrel. The -nearer high-angle guns were speaking now—fruitlessly, -for the sounds seemed to come from directly -overhead. The fog lifted again and a shaft of pale -sunlight shot across the line of entrenchments.</p> - -<p>“There ’e is, not wastin’ no time—<em>’e</em> ayn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Yus. But they’re arfter ’im. There comes hyviashun. -O <em>’ell</em>!”</p> - -<p>The expletive in a final tone of disgust for the fog -had fallen again, completely obliterating the air-craft -and its pursuers.</p> - -<p>“<em>’Oo’s</em> Yaller-belly?” asked a smooth-faced youth -who still wore the sallow of London under his coat of -windburn.</p> - -<p>“You’re one of the new lot, ayn’t yer? You’ll -know b——y soon ’oo Yaller-belly is, won’t ’e, Bill? -Pow! That’s ’im—them sharp ones.”</p> - -<p>“Garn!” said the one called Bill. “’E never ’its -anythink but the dirt an’ ’e cawn’t ’elp that.”</p> - -<p>“’Tayn’t ’cos ’e don’t try. ’Ear ’em? Nice droppin’s -fer a dove, ayn’t they?”</p> - -<p>“Dove?” said the newcomer.</p> - -<p>“Yus. Tubs the swine calls ’em——”</p> - -<p>“Tawb, yer blighter.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tub, I says. Whenever troops is moving’, ’e’s always -abaht—jus’ drops dahn hinformal-like, out o’ -nowhere——”</p> - -<p>“And cawn’t they catch ’im?”</p> - -<p>“Catch ’im—? Bly me—not they! A thousand -’orse-power, they say ’e ’as—flies circles round hour -hair squad like they was a lot o’ bloomink captivatin’ -balloons.”</p> - -<p>“But the ’igh-hangles——?”</p> - -<p>“Moves too fast—’ere an’ gone agayn, afore you -can fill yer cutty. They do say ’as ’ow when Yaller-belly -comes, there’s sure to be big doin’s along the -front.”</p> - -<p>“Aye,” said Bill. “When we was dahn at Copenhagen——”</p> - -<p>“Compayn, gran’pop——”</p> - -<p>“Aw! Wot’s the hodds? Dahn at Copenhagen, ’e -flew abaht same as ’e’s doin’ now.”</p> - -<p>Bill paused.</p> - -<p>“And what happened?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll ’ave to arsk Sir John abaht that, me son,” -finished the other dryly.</p> - -<p>“We was drillin’ rear-guard actions, wasn’t we, -Bill?”</p> - -<p>“Aye. We was drilled, right, left, an’ a bit in the -middle.” Bill rose and spat down the wind. “Tyke it -from me,” he finished, with a glance aloft through the -mist, “there’ll be somethin’ happen between ’ere an’ -Wipers afore the week is hout——”</p> - -<p>“Aye—the ’earse, Bill.”</p> - -<p>“Wot ’earse?” asked the newcomer again.</p> - -<p>“The larst time ’e kyme—down Wipers-way. There -was a lull in the firin’ an’ ’tween the lines o’ trenches -where the dead Dutchies was, comes a ’earse—a real<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -’earse with black ’orses, plumes an’ all. We thought -’twas some general they’d come to fetch and hup we -stands hout o’ the trenches, comp’ny after comp’ny, -caps off, all respec’ful-like. This ’ere ’earse comes -along slow an’ mournful, black curt’ins an’ all flappin’ -in the wind an’ six of the blighters a-marchin’ heads -down behind it. They wheels up abreast of our -comp’ny near a mound o’ earth and stops, an’ while -we was lookin’—the front side of that there b——y -vee-Hicle drops out an’ a machine-gun begins slippin’ -it into us pretty as you please. ’Earse—that’s wot -it was—a ’earse! an’ it jolly well made a funeral out -o’ B Company.”</p> - -<p>“Gawd!” said the newcomer. “And Yaller-belly——?”</p> - -<p>“I ayn’t sayin’ nothin’ abaht <em>’im</em>. You wait, that’s -all.”</p> - -<p>The sounds of firing rose and fell again. The fog -thickened and the last crashes of the high-angle guns -echoed out to sea, but the rush of the flying planes -continued. Three machines there were by the sound -of them, but one grew ever more distinct until the -sounds of the three were merged into one. Closer it -came, until like the blast of a storm down a mountainside, -a huge shadow fell across the dunes and was gone -amid a scattering of futile shots into the fog which -might as well have been aimed at the moon.</p> - -<p>Bill, the prescient, straightened and peered through -the fog toward the flying plane.</p> - -<p>“A ’earse,” he muttered. “That’s wot it was—a -’earse.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br /> -<small>SHELTERED PEOPLE</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Lady Betty Heathcote had a reputation in which -she took pride for giving successful dinners -in a neighborhood where successful dinners -were a rule rather than an exception. Her prescription -was simple and consisted solely in compounding -her social elements by strenuous mixing. She had a -faculty for discovering cubs with incipient manes and -saw them safely grown without mishap. At her house -in Park Lane, politics, art, literature, and science -rubbed elbows. Here pictures had been born, plays -had had their real <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">premières</i>, novels had been devised, -and poems without number, not a few of which were -indited to My Lady Betty’s eyebrow, here first saw -the light of day.</p> - -<p>For all her dynamic energy in a variety of causes, -most of them wise, all of them altruistic, Lady Betty -had the rare faculty of knowing when to be restful. -Tired Cabinet ministers, overworked lords of the Admiralty, -leaders in all parties, knew that in Park Lane -there would be no questions asked which it would not -be possible to answer, that there was always an excellent -dinner to be had without frills, a lounge in -a quiet room, or, indeed, a pair of pyjamas and a -bed if necessary.</p> - -<p>But since the desperate character of the war with -Germany had been driven home into the hearts of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -people of London, a change had taken place in the -complexion of many private entertainments and the -same serious air which was to be noted in the mien -of well-informed people of all classes upon the street -was reflected in the faces of her guests. Her scientists -were engrossed with utilitarian problems. Her literary -men were sending vivid word-pictures of ruined -Rheims and Louvain to their brothers across the Atlantic, -and her Cabinet ministers conversed less than -usual, addressing themselves with a greater particularity -to her roasts or her spare bedrooms. Torn -between many duties, as patroness to bazaars, as head -of a variety of sewing guilds, as president of the new -association for the training and equipment of nurses, -Lady Heathcote herself showed signs of the wear and -tear of an extraordinary situation, but she managed -to meet it squarely by using every ounce of her abundant -energy and every faculty of her resourceful mind.</p> - -<p>Many secrets were hers, both political and departmental, -but she kept them nobly, aware that she lived -in parlous times, when an unconsidered word might do -a damage irreparable. Agents of the enemy, she knew, -had been discovered in every walk of life, and while -she lived in London’s innermost circle, she knew that -even her own house might not have been immune from -visitors whose secret motives were open to question. -It was, therefore, with the desire to reassure herself -as to the unadulterated loyalty of her intimates that -she had carefully scrutinized her dinner lists, eliminating -all uncertain quantities through whom or by -whom the unreserved character of the conversation -across her board might in any way be jeopardized. So -it was that tonight’s dinner-table had something of -the complexion of a family party, in which John Rizzio,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -the bright particular star in London’s firmament -of Art, was to lend his effulgence. John Rizzio, dean -of collectors, whose wonderful house in Berkeley Square -rivaled the British Museum and the Wallace Collection -combined, an Italian by birth, an Englishman by -adoption, who because of his public benefactions had -been offered a knighthood and had refused it; John -Rizzio, who had been an intimate of King Edward, a -friend of Cabinet ministers, who knew as much about -the inner workings of the Government as majesty itself. -Long a member of Lady Heathcote’s circle, it -had been her custom to give him a dinner on the anniversary -of the day of the acquisition of the most -famous picture in his collection, “The Conningsby -Venus,” which had, before the death of the old Earl, -been the aim of collectors throughout the world.</p> - -<p>As usual the selection of her guests had been left to -Rizzio, whose variety of taste in friendships could -have been no better shown than in the company which -now graced Lady Heathcote’s table. The Earl and -Countess of Kipshaven, the one artistic, the other literary; -their daughter the Honorable Jacqueline Morley; -Captain Byfield, a retired cavalry officer now on -special duty at the War Office; Lady Joyliffe, who had -lost her Earl at Mons, an interesting widow, the bud -of whose new affections was already emerging from her -weeds; John Sandys, under-secretary for foreign affairs, -the object of those affections; Miss Doris Mather, -daughter of the American cotton king, who was -known for doing unusual things, not the least of which -was her recent refusal of the hand of John Rizzio, one -of London’s catches, and the acceptance of that of the -Honorable Cyril Hammersley, the last to be mentioned -member of this distinguished company, gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -sportsman and man about town, who as everybody -knew would never set the world afire.</p> - -<p>No one knew how this miracle had happened, for -Doris Mather’s brains were above the ordinary; she -had a discriminating taste in books and a knowledge -of pictures, and just before dinner, upstairs in a burst -of confidence she had given her surprised hostess an -idea of what a man should be.</p> - -<p>“He should be clever, Betty,” she sighed, “a worker, -a dreamer of great dreams, a firebrand in every good -cause, a patriot willing to fight to the last drop of his -blood——”</p> - -<p>Lady Betty’s laughter disconcerted her and she -paused.</p> - -<p>“And that is why you chose the Honorable -Cyril?”</p> - -<p>Miss Mather compressed her lips and frowned at -her image in the mirror.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be nasty, Betty. I couldn’t marry a man -as old as John Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>Lady Betty only laughed again.</p> - -<p>“Forgive me, dear, but it really is most curious. I -wouldn’t laugh if you hadn’t been so careful to describe -to me all the virtues that Cyril—hasn’t.”</p> - -<p>Doris powdered the end of her nose thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“I suppose they’re all a myth—men like that. They -simply don’t exist—that’s all.”</p> - -<p>Lady Betty pinned a final jewel on her bodice.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure John Rizzio is flattered at your choice. -Cyril is an old dear. But to marry! I’d as soon take -the automatic chess player. Why are you going to -marry Cyril, Doris?” she asked.</p> - -<p>A long pause and more powder.</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure that I am. I don’t even know why I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -thought him possible. I think it’s the feeling of the -potter for his clay. Something <em>might</em> be made of him. -He seems so helpless somehow. Men of his sort always -are. I’d like to mother him. Besides”—and she flashed -around on her hostess brightly—“he does sit a horse -like a centaur.”</p> - -<p>“He’s also an excellent shot, a good chauffeur, a -tolerable dancer and the best bat in England, all agreeable -talents in a gentleman of fashion but—er—hardly——” -Lady Betty burst into laughter. “Good -Lord, Doris! Cyril a firebrand!”</p> - -<p>Doris Mather eyed her hostess reproachfully and -moved toward the door into the hallway.</p> - -<p>“Come, Betty,” she said with some dignity, “are -you ready to go down?”</p> - -<p>All of which goes to show that matches are not made -in Heaven and that the motives of young women in -making important decisions are actuated by the most -unimportant details. Hammersley’s good fortune was -still a secret except to Miss Mather’s most intimate -friends, but the conviction was slowly growing in the -mind of the girl that unless Cyril stopped sitting -around in tweeds when everybody else was getting into -khaki, the engagement would never be announced. As -the foreign situation had grown more serious she had -seen other men who weighed less than Cyril throw off -the boredom of their London habits and go soldiering -into France. But the desperate need of his country -for able-bodied men had apparently made no impression -upon the placid mind of the Honorable Cyril. It -was as unruffled as a highland lake in mid-August. He -had contributed liberally from his large means to Lady -Heathcote’s Ambulance Fund, but his manner had become, -if anything, more bored than ever.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Mather entered the drawing-room thoughtfully -with the helpless feeling of one who, having made a -mistake, pauses between the alternatives of tenacity -and recantation. And yet as soon as she saw him a -little tremor of pleasure passed over her. In spite of -his drooping pose, his vacant stare, his obvious inadequacy -she was sure there was something about Cyril -Hammersley that made him beyond doubt the most distinguished-looking -person in the room—not even excepting -Rizzio.</p> - -<p>He came over to her at once, the monocle dropping -from his eye.</p> - -<p>“Aw’fly glad. Jolly good to see you, m’dear. Handsome -no end.”</p> - -<p>He took her hand and bent over her fingers. Such -a broad back he had, such a finely shaped head, such -shoulders, such strong hands that were capable of so -much but had achieved so little. And were these all -that she could have seen in him? Reason told her that -it was her mind that demanded a mate. Could it be -that she was in love with a beautiful body?</p> - -<p>There was something pathetic in the way he looked -at her. She felt very sorry for him, but Betty Heathcote’s -laughter was still ringing in her ears.</p> - -<p>“Thanks, Cyril,” she said coolly. “I’ve wanted to -see you—tonight—to tell you that at last I’ve volunteered -with the Red Cross.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley peered at her blankly and then with a -contortion set his eyeglass.</p> - -<p>“Red Cross—you! Oh, I say now, Doris, that’s -goin’ it rather thick on a chap——”</p> - -<p>“It’s true. Father’s fitting out an ambulance corps -and has promised to let me go.”</p> - -<p>John Rizzio, tall, urbane, dark and cynical, who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -joined them, heard her last words and broke into a -shrug.</p> - -<p>“It’s the khaki, Hammersley. The women will follow -it to the ends of the earth. Broadcloth and tweeds -are not the fashion.” He ran his arm through Hammersley’s. -“There’s nothing for you and me but to -volunteer.”</p> - -<p>The Honorable Cyril only stared at him blankly.</p> - -<p>“Haw!” he said, which, as Lady Betty once expressed -it, was half the note of a jackass.</p> - -<p>Here the Kipshavens arrived and their hostess signaled -the advance upon the dinner-table.</p> - -<p>One of the secrets of the success of Lady Heathcote’s -dinners was the size and shape of her table, -which seated no more than ten and was round. Her -centerpieces were flat and her candelabra low so that -any person at the table could see and converse with -anyone else. It was thus possible delicately to remind -those who insisted on completely appropriating their -dinner partners that private matters could be much -more safely discussed in the many corners of the house -designed for the purpose. Doris sat between Rizzio -and Byfield, Hammersley with Lady Joyliffe just opposite, -and when Rizzio announced the American girl’s -decision to go to France as soon as her training -was completed she became the immediate center of interest.</p> - -<p>“That’s neutrality of the right sort,” said Kipshaven -heartily. “I wish all of your countrymen felt -as you do.”</p> - -<p>“I think most of them do,” replied Doris, smiling -slowly, “but you know, you haven’t always been -nice to us. There have been many times when we -felt that as an older brother you treated us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -rather shabbily. I’m heaping coals of fire, you see.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Touché!</i>” said Rizzio, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>“I bare my head,” said the Earl.</p> - -<p>“Ashes to ashes,” from Lady Joyliffe.</p> - -<p>Kipshaven smiled. “Once in England gray hairs -were venerated, even among the frivolous. Now,” he -sighed, “they are only a reproach. <em>Peccavi.</em> Forgive -me. I wish I could set the clock back.”</p> - -<p>“You’d go?” asked Doris.</p> - -<p>“Tomorrow,” said the old Earl with enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>Miss Mather glanced at Hammersley who was enjoying -his soup, a purée he liked particularly.</p> - -<p>“But isn’t there something you could do?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Write, for America—for Italy—for Sweden -and Holland—for Spain. It’s something, but it isn’t -enough. My fingers are itching for a sword.”</p> - -<p>The Honorable Cyril looked up.</p> - -<p>“Pen mightier than sword,” he quoted vacuously, -and went on with his soup.</p> - -<p>“You don’t really mean that, Hammersley,” said -Kipshaven amid smiles.</p> - -<p>“Well rather,” drawled the other. “All silly rot—fightin’. -What’s the use. Spoiled my boar-shootin’ -in Hesse-Nassau—no season at Carlsbad—no season -anywhere—everything the same—winter—summer——”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t think so if you were in the trenches, -my boy,” laughed Byfield.</p> - -<p>“Beastly happy I’m not,” said Hammersley. “Don’t -mind shootin’ pheasant or boar. Bad form—shootin’ -men—not the sportin’ thing, you know—pottin’ a bird -on the ground—’specially Germans.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Boches!</em>” said Lady Betty contemptuously. She -was inclined to be intolerant. For her Algy had already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -been mentioned in dispatches. “I don’t understand -you, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley regarded her gravely while Constance -Joyliffe took up his cudgels.</p> - -<p>“You forget Cyril’s four years at Heidelberg.”</p> - -<p>“No I don’t,” said their hostess warmly, “and I -could almost believe Cyril had German sympathies.”</p> - -<p>“I have, you know,” said Hammersley calmly, sniffing -at the rim of his wineglass.</p> - -<p>“This is hardly the time to confess it,” said Kipshaven -dryly.</p> - -<p>Doris sat silent, aware of a deep humiliation which -seemed to envelop them both.</p> - -<p>Rizzio laughed and produced a clipping from <cite>Punch</cite>. -“Hammersley is merely stoically peaceful. Listen.” -And he read:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I was playing golf one day when the Germans landed<br /></span> -<span class="i1">All our troops had run away and all our ships were stranded<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And the thought of England’s shame nearly put me off my game.”<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>Amid the laughter the Honorable Cyril straightened.</p> - -<p>“Silly stuff, that,” he said quite seriously, “to put a -fellow off his game.” And turning to Lady Joyliffe: -“<cite>Punch</cite> a bit brackish lately. What?”</p> - -<p>“Cyril, you’re insular,” from Lady Heathcote.</p> - -<p>“No, insulated,” said Doris with a flash of the eyes.</p> - -<p>Rizzio laughed. “Highly potential but—er—not -dangerous. Why should he be? He’s your typical -Briton—sport-loving, calm and nerveless in the most -exacting situations—I was at Lords, you know, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -Hammersley made that winning run for Marylebone—two -minutes to play. Every bowler they put up——”</p> - -<p>“It’s hardly a time for bats,” put in Kipshaven -dryly. “What we need is fast bowlers—with rifles.”</p> - -<p>The object of these remarks sat serenely, smiling -blandly around the table, but made no reply. In the -pause that followed Sandys was heard in a half whisper -to Byfield.</p> - -<p>“What’s this I hear of a leak at the War Office?”</p> - -<p>Captain Byfield glanced down the table. “Have you -heard that?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. At the club.”</p> - -<p>Captain Byfield touched the rim of his glass to his -lips.</p> - -<p>“I’ve heard nothing of it.”</p> - -<p>“What?” from a chorus.</p> - -<p>“Information is getting out somewhere. I violate -no confidences in telling you. The War Office is perturbed.”</p> - -<p>“How terrible!” said Lady Joyliffe. “And don’t -they suspect?”</p> - -<p>“That’s the worst of it. The Germans got wind of -some of Lord Kitchener’s plans and some of the Admiralty’s—which -nobody knew but those very near -the men at the top.”</p> - -<p>“A spy in that circle—unbelievable,” said Kipshaven.</p> - -<p>“My authority is a man of importance. Fortunately -no damage has been done. The story goes that -we’re issuing false statements in certain channels to -mislead the enemy and find the culprit.”</p> - -<p>“But how does the news reach the Germans?” asked -Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“No one knows. By courier to the coast and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -by fast motor-boat perhaps; or by aëroplane. It’s -very mysterious. A huge <em>Taube</em>, yellow in color, flying -over the North Sea between England and the continent -has been sighted and reported by English vessels -again and again and each flight has coincided with -some unexpected move on the part of the enemy. Once -it was seen just before the raid at Falmouth, again before -the Zeppelin visit to Sandringham.”</p> - -<p>“A yellow dove!” said Lady Kipshaven. “A bird of -ill omen, surely.”</p> - -<p>“But how could such an aëroplane leave the shores -of England without being remarked?” asked Kipshaven.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” laughed Sandys, “answer me that and we -have the solution of the problem. A strict watch is -being kept on the coasts, and the government employees—the -postmen, police, secret-service men of -every town and village from here to the Shetlands are -on the lookout—but not a glimpse have they had of -him, not a sign of his arrival or departure, but only -last week he was reported by a destroyer flying toward -the English coast.”</p> - -<p>“Most extraordinary!” from Lady Kipshaven.</p> - -<p>“It’s a large machine?” asked Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“Larger than any aëroplane ever built in Europe. -They say Curtis, the American, was building a thousand -horsepower machine at Hammondsport—in the -States. This one must be at least as large as that.”</p> - -<p>“But surely such a machine could not be hidden in -England for any length of time without discovery.”</p> - -<p>“It would seem so—but there you are. The main -point is that he hasn’t been discovered and that its -pilot is here in England—ready to fly across the sea -with our military secrets when he gets them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<p>“D—n him!” growled Kipshaven quite audibly, a -sentiment which echoed so truly in the hearts of those -present that it passed without comment.</p> - -<p>“The captain of a merchant steamer who saw it -quite plainly reported that the power of the machine -was simply amazing—that it flew at about six thousand -feet and was lost to sight in an incredibly brief time. -In short, my friends, the Yellow Dove is one of the -miracles of the day—and its pilot one of its mysteries.”</p> - -<p>“But our aviation men—can they do nothing?”</p> - -<p>“What? Chase rainbows? Where shall their voyage -begin and where end? He’s over the North Sea -one minute and in Belgium the next. Our troops in -the trenches think he’s a phantom. They say even the -bombs he drops are phantoms. They are heard to explode -but nobody has ever been hit by them.”</p> - -<p>“What will the War Office do?”</p> - -<p>Sandys shrugged expressively. “What would <em>you</em> -do?”</p> - -<p>“Shoot the beggar,” said the Honorable Cyril impassively.</p> - -<p>“Shoot the moon, sir,” roared the Earl angrily. -“It’s no time for idiotic remarks. If this story is true, -a danger hangs over England. No wholesome Briton,” -here he glanced again at Hammersley, “ought to go to -sleep until this menace is discovered and destroyed.”</p> - -<p>“The Yellow Dove is occult,” said Sandys, “like a -witch on a broomstick.”</p> - -<p>“A Flying Dutchman,” returned Lady Joyliffe.</p> - -<p>“There seems to be no joke about that,” said the -Earl.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br /> -<small>THE UNDERCURRENT</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">They were still discussing the strange story of -Sandys when Lady Heathcote signaled her -feminine guests and they retired to the drawing-room. -Over the coffee the interest persisted and -Lord Kipshaven was not to be denied. If, as it seemed -probable, this German spy was making frequent flights -between England and the continent, he must have some -landing field, a hangar, a machine shop with supplies -of oil and fuel. Where in this tight little island could -a German airman descend with a thousand horsepower -machine and not be discovered unless with the connivance -of Englishmen? The thing looked bad. If there -were Englishmen in high places in London who could -be bought, there were others, many others, who -helped to form the vicious chain which led to Germany.</p> - -<p>“I tell you I believe we’re honeycombed with spies,” -he growled. “For one that we’ve caught and imprisoned -or shot, there are dozens in the very midst of us. -If this thing keeps up we’ll all of us be suspecting one -another. How do I know that you, Sandys, you, Rizzio, -Byfield or even Hammersley here isn’t a secret agent of -the Germans? What dinner-table in England is safe -when spies are found in the official family at the War -Office?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio smiled.</p> - -<p>“We, who are about to die, salute you,” he said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -raising his liqueur glass. “And you, Lord Kipshaven, -how can we be sure of you?”</p> - -<p>“By this token,” said the old man, rising and putting -his back to the fire, “that if I even suspected, I’d -shoot any one of you down here—now, with as little -compunction as I’d kill a dog.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll have my coffee first,” laughed Byfield, “if you -don’t mind.”</p> - -<p>“Coffee—then coffin,” said Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“Jolly unpleasant conversation this,” remarked -Hammersley. “Makes a chap a bit fidgety.”</p> - -<p>“Fidgety!” roared the Earl. “We ought to be fidgety -with the Germans winning east and west and the -finest flower of our service already killed in battle. We -need men and still more men. Any able-bodied fellow -under forty who stays at home”—and he glanced meaningly -at the Honorable Cyril—“ought to be put to -work mending roads.”</p> - -<p>The object of these remarks turned the blank stare -of his monocle but made no reply.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I mean you, Cyril,” went on the Earl steadily. -“Your mother was born a Prussian. I knew her well -and I think she learned to thank God that fortune had -given her an Englishman for a husband. But the taint -is in you. Your brother has been wounded at the -front. His blood is cleansed. But what of yours? -You went to a German university with your Prussian -kinsmen and now openly flaunt your sympathies at a -dinner of British patriots. Speak up. How do you -stand? Your friends demand it.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley turned his cigarette carefully in its -long amber holder.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say, Lord Kipshaven,” he said with a slow -smile, “you’re not spoofing a chap, are you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I was never more in earnest in my life. How do -you stand?”</p> - -<p>“Haw!” said Hammersley with obvious effort. “I’m -British, you know, and all that sort of thing. How can -an Englishman be anything else? Silly rot—fightin’—that’s -what I say. That’s all I say,” he finished looking -calmly for approval from one to the other.</p> - -<p>Smiles from Sandys and Rizzio met this inadequacy, -but the Earl, after glaring at him moodily for a moment, -uttered a smothered, “Paugh,” and shrugging a -shoulder, turned to Rizzio and Sandys who were discussing -a recent submarine raid.</p> - -<p>Hammersley and Byfield sat near each other at the -side of the table away from the others. There was a -moment of silence—which Hammersley improved by -blowing smoke rings toward the ceiling. Captain Byfield -watched him a moment and then after a glance in -the direction of the Earl leaned carelessly on an elbow -toward Hammersley.</p> - -<p>“Any shootin’ at the North?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s monocle dropped and the eyes of the -two men met.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I’m shootin’ the day after tomorrow,” said -Hammersley quietly. Byfield looked away and another -long moment of silence followed. Then the Honorable -Cyril after a puff or two took the long amber holder -from his mouth, removed the cigarette and smudged the -ash upon the receiver.</p> - -<p>“Bally heady cigarettes, these of Algy’s. Don’t -happen to have any ’baccy and papers about you, do -you, Byfield?”</p> - -<p>“Well, rather,” replied the captain. And he pushed -a pouch and a package of cigarette papers along the -tablecloth. “It’s a mix of my own. I hope you’ll like it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<p>Hammersley opened the bag and sniffed at its contents.</p> - -<p>“Good stuff, that. Virginia, Perique and a bit of -Turkish. What?”</p> - -<p>Byfield nodded and watched Hammersley as he -poured out the tobacco, rolled the paper and lighted -it at the candelabra, inhaling luxuriously.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” he sighed. “Jolly good of you,” and he -pushed the pouch back to Byfield along the table.</p> - -<p>“You must come to Scotland some day, old chap,” -said the Honorable Cyril carelessly.</p> - -<p>“Delighted. When the war is over,” returned Byfield -quietly. “Not until the war is over.”</p> - -<p>“Awf’ly glad to have you any time, you know—awf’ly -glad.”</p> - -<p>“In case of furlough—I’ll look you up.”</p> - -<p>“Do,” said the Honorable Cyril.</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s rather bovine gaze passed slowly -around the room, and just over Lord Kipshaven’s head -in the mirror over the mantel it met the dark gaze of -John Rizzio. The fraction of a second it paused there -and then he stretched his long legs and rose, stifling a -yawn.</p> - -<p>“Let’s go in—what?” he said to Byfield.</p> - -<p>Byfield got up and at the same time there was a -movement at the mantel.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be too hard on the chap,” Rizzio was saying -in an undertone to Kipshaven. “You’re singing the -‘Hassgesang.’ He’s harmless—I tell you—positively -harmless.” And then as the others moved toward the -door: “Come, Lady Heathcote won’t mind our tobacco.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley led the way, with Byfield and Rizzio -at his heels. Jacqueline Morley had been trying to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -play the piano, but there was no heart in the music -until she struck up “Tipperary,” when there was a -generous chorus in which the men joined.</p> - -<p>Hammersley found Doris with Constance Joyliffe -in an alcove. At his approach Lady Joyliffe retired.</p> - -<p>“Handsome, no end,” he murmured to her as he -sank beside her.</p> - -<p>“Handsome is as handsome does, Cyril,” she said -slowly. “If you knew what I was thinking of, you -wouldn’t be so generous.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Just what everybody is thinking about you—that -you’ve got to do something—enlist to fight—go to -France, if only as a chauffeur. They’d let you do that -tomorrow if you’d go.”</p> - -<p>“Chauffeur! Me! Not really!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that or something else,” determinedly.</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>She hesitated a moment and then went on distinctly.</p> - -<p>“Because I could never marry a man people talked -about as people are talking about you.”</p> - -<p>“Not marry—?” The Honorable Cyril’s face for -the first time that evening showed an expression of concern. -“Not marry—me? You can’t mean that, -Doris.”</p> - -<p>“I do mean it, Cyril,” she said firmly. “I can’t -marry you.”</p> - -<p>“Why——?”</p> - -<p>“Because to me love is a sacrament. Love of woman—love -of country, but the last is the greater of the -two. No man who isn’t a patriot is fit to be a husband.”</p> - -<p>“A patriot——”</p> - -<p>She broke in before he could protest. “Yes—a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -patriot. You’re not a patriot—that is, if you’re an -Englishman. I don’t know you, Cyril. You puzzle -me. You’re lukewarm. Day after day you’ve seen -your friends and mine go off in uniform, but it doesn’t -mean anything to you. It doesn’t mean anything to -you that England is in danger and that she needs -every man who can be spared at home to go to the -front. You see them go and the only thing it means -to you is that you’re losing club-mates and sport-mates. -Instead of taking the infection of fervor—you -go to Scotland—to shoot—not Germans but—deer! -Deer!” she repeated scathingly.</p> - -<p>“But there aren’t any Germans in Scotland—at least -none that a chap could shoot,” he said with a smile.</p> - -<p>“Then go where there <em>are</em> Germans to shoot,” she -said impetuously. She put her face to her hands a -moment. “Oh, don’t you understand? You’ve got to -prove yourself. You’ve got to make people stop speaking -of you as I’ve heard them speak of you tonight. -Here you are in the midst of friends, people who know -you and like you, but what must other people who -don’t know you so well or care so much as we? What -must they think and say of your indifference, of your -openly expressed sympathy with England’s enemies? -Even Lady Betty, a kinswoman and one of your truest -friends, has lost patience with you—I had almost said -lost confidence in you.”</p> - -<p>Her voice trailed into silence. Hammersley was -moving the toe of his varnished boot along the border -of the Aubusson rug.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Awf’ly sorry.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry! Are you? But what are you going to do -about it?”</p> - -<p>“Do?” he said vaguely. “I don’t know, I’m sure.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -I’m no bally use, you know. Wouldn’t be any bally use -over there. Make some silly ass mistake probably. -No end of trouble—all around.”</p> - -<p>“And you’re willing to sacrifice the goodwill, the -affection of your friends, the respect of the girl you -say you love——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say, Doris. Not that——”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I’ve got to tell you. I can’t be unfair to -myself. I can’t respect a man who sees others cheerfully -carrying <em>his</em> burdens, doing <em>his</em> work, accepting -<em>his</em> hardships in order that he may sleep soundly at -home far away from the nightmare of shot and shell. -<em>You</em>, Cyril, <em>you</em>! Is it that—the love of ease? Or is -it something else—something to do with your German -kinship—the memory of your mother. What is it? -If you still want me, Cyril, it is my right to know——”</p> - -<p>“Want you, Doris—” his voice went a little lower. -“Yes, I want you. You might know that.”</p> - -<p>“Then you must tell me.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated and peered at the eyeglass in his fingers.</p> - -<p>“I think—it’s because I—” He paused and then -crossed his hands and bowed his head with an air of -relinquishment. “Because I think I must be a”—he -almost whispered the word—“a coward.”</p> - -<p>Doris Mather gazed at him a long moment of mingled -dismay and incredulity.</p> - -<p>“You,” she whispered, “the first sportsman of England—a—a -coward.”</p> - -<p>He gave a short mirthless laugh.</p> - -<p>“Queer, isn’t it, the way a chap feels about such -things? I always hated the idea of being mangled. -Awf’ly unpleasant idea that—’specially in the tummy. -In India once I saw a chap——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You—a coward!” Doris repeated, wide-eyed. “I -don’t believe you.”</p> - -<p>He bent his head again.</p> - -<p>“I—I’m afraid you’d better,” he said uncertainly.</p> - -<p>She rose, still looking at him incredulously, another -doubt, a more dreadful one, winging its flight to and -fro across her inner vision.</p> - -<p>“Come,” she said in a tone she hardly recognized -as her own, “come let us join the others.”</p> - -<p>He stood uncertainly and as she started to go,</p> - -<p>“You’ll let me take you home, Doris?” he asked.</p> - -<p>She bent her head, and without replying made her -way to the group beyond the alcove.</p> - -<p>Hammersley stood a moment watching her diminishing -back and then a curious expression, half of trouble, -half of resolution, came into his eyes.</p> - -<p>Then after a quick glance around the curtain he -suddenly reached into his trousers pocket, took something -out and scrutinized it carefully by the light of -the lamp. He put it back quickly and setting his -monocle sauntered forth into the room. As he moved -to join the group at the piano John Rizzio met him -in the middle of the room.</p> - -<p>“Could I have a word with you, Hammersley?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Happy,” said the Honorable Cyril. “Here?”</p> - -<p>“In the smoking-room—if you don’t mind?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley hesitated a moment and then swung on -his heels and led the way. At the smoking-room door -from the hallway Rizzio paused, then quietly drew the -heavy curtains behind them.</p> - -<p>Hammersley, standing by the table, followed this -action with a kind of bored curiosity, aware that Rizzio’s -dark gaze had never once left him since they had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -entered the room. Slowly Hammersley took his hands -from his pockets, reached into his waistcoat for his -cigarette case, and as Rizzio approached, opened and -offered it to him.</p> - -<p>“Smoke?” he asked carelessly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t mind if I do. But I’ve taken a curious liking -for rolled cigarettes. Ah! I thought so.” He -opened the tobacco jar and sniffed at it, searched -around the articles on the table, then, “How disappointing! -Nothing but Algy’s dreadful pipes. You -don’t happen to have any rice-papers do you?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley was lighting his own cigarette at the -brazier.</p> - -<p>“No. Sorry,” he replied laconically.</p> - -<p>Rizzio leaned beside him against the edge of the -table.</p> - -<p>“Strange. I thought I saw you making a cigarette -in the dining-room.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s face brightened. “Oh, yes, Byfield. -Byfield has rice-papers.”</p> - -<p>“I’d rather have yours,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p>The Honorable Cyril looked up.</p> - -<p>“Mine, old chap? I thought I told you I hadn’t -any.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio smiled amiably.</p> - -<p>“Then I must have misunderstood you,” he said -politely.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Hammersley and sank into an armchair.</p> - -<p>Rizzio did not move and the Honorable Cyril, his -head back, was already blowing smoke rings.</p> - -<p>Rizzio suddenly relaxed with a laugh and put his -legs over a small chair near Hammersley’s and folded -his arms along its back.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you know, Hammersley,” he said with a laugh, -“I sometimes think that as I grow older my hearing -is not as good as it used to be. Perhaps you’ll say -that I cling to my vanishing youth with a fatuous -desperation. I do. Rather silly, isn’t it, because I’m -quite forty-five. But I’ve a curiosity, even in so small -a matter, to learn whether things are as bad with me as -I think they are. Now unless you’re going to add a -few more gray hairs to my head by telling me that I’m -losing my sight as well as my hearing, you’ll gratify -my curiosity—an idle curiosity, if you like, but still -strangely important to my peace of mind.”</p> - -<p>He paused a moment and looked at Cyril, who was -examining him with frank bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I understand,” said Hammersley politely.</p> - -<p>“I’ll try to make it clearer. Something has happened -tonight that makes me think that I’m getting -either blind or deaf or both. To begin with I thought -you said you had no cigarette papers. If I heard you -wrong, then the burden of proof rests upon my ears—if -my eyes are at fault it’s high time I consulted a -specialist, because you know, at the table in the dining-room -when you were sitting with Byfield, quite distinctly -I saw you put a package of Riz-la-Croix into -your right-hand trousers pocket. The color as you -know is yellow—a color to which my optic nerve is -peculiarly sensitive.” He laughed again. “I know -you’d hardly go out of your way to make a misstatement -on so small a matter, and if you don’t mind satisfying -a foible of my vanity, I wish you’d tell me -whether or not I’m mistaken.”</p> - -<p>He stopped and looked at Hammersley who was regarding -him with polite, if puzzled tolerance. Then,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -as if realizing that something was required of him -Hammersley leaned forward.</p> - -<p>“I say, Rizzio. What the deuce is it all about? -I’m sorry you’re gettin’ old an’ all that sort of thing, -but I can’t help it. Now can I, old chap?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio’s smile slowly faded and his gaze passed -Hammersley and rested on the brass fender of the -fireplace.</p> - -<p>“You don’t care to tell me?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“About that package of rice-papers.”</p> - -<p>“Byfield has them.”</p> - -<p>“Not that package,” put in Rizzio with a wave of -the hand. And then, leaning forward, in a low tone, -“The other.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley sat upright a moment, his hands on the -chair-arms and then sank back in his chair with a -laugh.</p> - -<p>“I say. I can take a joke as well as the next, but—er—what’s -the answer?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio rose, his graceful figure dominant.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think that sort of thing will do, Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>His demeanor was perfectly correct, his hand-wave -easy and a well-bred smile flickered at his lips, but -his tone masked a mystery. Hammersley rose, removing -his cigarette with great deliberateness from its -holder and throwing it into the fire.</p> - -<p>“If there isn’t anything else you want to see me -about—” He took a step in the direction of the -door.</p> - -<p>“One moment, please.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley paused.</p> - -<p>“I think we’d better drop subterfuge. I know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -why you were here tonight, why Byfield was here and -perhaps you know now why I am here.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t imagine, I’m sure,” said Cyril.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you can guess, when I tell you that this -party was of my own choosing—that my plans were -made with a view to arranging your meeting with Captain -Byfield in a place known to be above suspicion. -I have been empowered to relieve you of any further -responsibility in the matter in question—in short of -the papers themselves.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say. Vanished youth, cigarette papers and -all that. You’re goin’ it a bit thick, Rizzio, old boy.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio put a hand into the inside pocket of his evening -coat and drew out a card-case, which he opened -under Hammersley’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“Look, Hammersley,” he whispered. “Maxwell gave -me this! Perhaps you understand now.”</p> - -<p>The Honorable Cyril fixed his eyeglass carefully and -stared at the card-case.</p> - -<p>“By Jove,” he muttered, with sudden interest.</p> - -<p>“Now you understand?” said Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“You!” whispered Hammersley, looking at him. The -languor of a moment before had fallen from him with -his dropping monocle.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I. Now quick, the papers,” muttered Rizzio, -putting the card-case in his pocket. “Someone may -come at any moment.”</p> - -<p>For a long space of time Hammersley stood uncertainly -peering down at the pattern in the rug, then he -straightened and, crossing the room, put his back to -the fireplace.</p> - -<p>“There may be a mistake,” he said firmly. “I can’t -risk it.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio stood for a moment staring at him as though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -he had not heard correctly. Then he crossed over and -faced the other man.</p> - -<p>“You mean that?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley put his hands in his trousers pockets.</p> - -<p>“I fancy so.”</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do?”</p> - -<p>“What I’ve been told to do.”</p> - -<p>“My orders supersede yours.”</p> - -<p>“H-m. I’m not sure.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t doubt my credentials.”</p> - -<p>“Hardly that. Er—I think I know best, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio took a pace or two before the fireplace in -front of him, his brows tangled, his fingers twitching -behind his back. Then he stopped with the air of a -man who has reached a decision.</p> - -<p>“You understand what this refusal means?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged.</p> - -<p>“You realize that it makes you an object of suspicion?” -asked the other.</p> - -<p>“How? In doing what was expected of me?” said -Hammersley easily.</p> - -<p>“You are expected to give those papers to me.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio’s fine face had gone a shade paler under the -glossy black of his hair and his eyes gleamed dangerously -under his shaggy brows. He measured the Honorable -Cyril’s six feet two against his own and then -turned away.</p> - -<p>“I think I understand,” he said slowly. “Your action -leaves me no other alternative.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley, his hands still deep in his pockets, -seemed to be thinking deeply.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Each man according to -his lights. You have your orders. I have mine. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -seem to conflict. I’m going to carry mine out. If that -interferes with carrying out yours, I’m not to blame. -It’s what happens in the end that matters,” he finished -significantly.</p> - -<p>Rizzio thought deeply for a moment.</p> - -<p>“You’ll at least let me see them?”</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“I have my own reasons.”</p> - -<p>Another pause in which Rizzio gave every appearance -of a baffled man.</p> - -<p>“You realize that if I gave the alarm and those -papers were found on you——”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t do that.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“Because of your card-case.”</p> - -<p>“That signifies nothing to anyone but you and me.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley smiled.</p> - -<p>“I’ll take the risk, Rizzio,” he said finally.</p> - -<p>The two men had been so absorbed in their conversation -that they had not heard the drawing of the curtains -of the door, but a sound made them turn and -there stood Doris Mather.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br /> -<small>RICE-PAPERS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Doris looked from the man whose hand she had -accepted to the one she had refused. Their -attitudes were eloquent of concealment and -the few phrases which had reached her ears as she -paused outside the curtain did nothing to relieve the -sudden tension of her fears. She hesitated for a moment -as Rizzio recovered himself with an effort.</p> - -<p>“Do come in, Doris,” he said with a smile. “Hammersley -and I were—er——”</p> - -<p>“Discussing the scrap of paper. I’m sure of it,” -she said coolly. “Nothing is so fruitful of argument. -I shouldn’t have intruded, but Cyril was to take me -home and I’m ready to go.”</p> - -<p>A look passed between the men.</p> - -<p>“By Jove—of course,” said Cyril with a glance at -his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, Rizzio——”</p> - -<p>“Betty is going to Scotland tomorrow early and I -think she wants to go to bed.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio laughed. “The war has made us virtuous. -Eleven o’clock! We’re losing our beauty sleep.”</p> - -<p>He followed them to the door, but pleading a desire -for a night-cap, remained in the smoking-room.</p> - -<p>“I promised that you should take me home,” said -the girl to Hammersley as they passed along the hall. -“But I’m sorry if I interrupted——”</p> - -<p>“Awf’ly glad,” he murmured. “Nothing important, -you know. Club matter. Personal.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> - -<p>Doris stopped just outside the drawing-room door -and searched his face keenly, while she whispered:</p> - -<p>“And the threats—of exposure. Oh, I heard that. -I couldn’t help it—Cyril—”</p> - -<p>He glanced down at her quickly.</p> - -<p>“Hush, Doris.”</p> - -<p>Something she saw in his expression changed her -resolution to question him. The mystery which she -had felt to hang about him since he had said he was a -coward had deepened. Something told her that she -had been treading on forbidden ground and that in -obeying him she served his interests best, so she led -the way into the drawing-room, where they made their -adieux.</p> - -<p>Byfield had already gone and Sandys and Lady -Joyliffe were just getting into their wraps.</p> - -<p>“You’ll meet me here at ten?” their hostess was asking -of Constance Joyliffe.</p> - -<p>“If I’m not demolished by a Zeppelin in the meanwhile,” -laughed the widow.</p> - -<p>“Or the Yellow Dove,” said Jacqueline Morley. -“I’m <em>sure</em> he alights on the roofs of the Parliament -Houses.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll be safe in Scotland at any rate, Constance. -We’re quite too unimportant up there to be visited by -engines of destruction—” she laughed meaningly. -“That is—always excepting Jack Sandys.”</p> - -<p>Sandys looked self-conscious, but Lady Joyliffe -merely beamed benignly.</p> - -<p>“It will really be quite restful, I’m sure,” she said -easily. “Is Cyril going to be at Ben-a-Chielt?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley awoke from a fit of abstraction.</p> - -<p>“Quite possible,” he murmured, “gettin’ to be a bit -of a hermit lately. Like it though—rather.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Cyril hasn’t anyone to play with,” said Betty -Heathcote, “so he has taken to building chicken-houses.”</p> - -<p>“Fearfully absorbin’—chicken-houses. Workin’ ’em -out on a plan of my own. You’ll see. Goin’ in for -hens to lay two eggs a day.” And then to Kipshaven, -“So the submarines can’t starve us out, you know,” -he explained.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you need worry about that,” said the -Earl dryly, moving toward the door.</p> - -<p>Doris Mather went upstairs for her wraps and when -she came down she found Hammersley in his topcoat -awaiting her. As they went down the steps into the -waiting limousine her companion offered her his arm. -Was it only fancy that gave her the impression that -his glance was searching the darkness of the Park beyond -the lights of the waiting cars with a keenness -which seemed uncalled for on so prosaic an occasion? -He helped her in and gave the direction to the chauffeur.</p> - -<p>“Ashwater Park, Stryker, by way of Hampstead—and -hurry,” she heard him say, which was surprising -since the nearer way lay through Harlenden and Harrow-on-Hill. -The orders to hurry, too, save in the -stress of need, were under the circumstances hardly -flattering to her self-esteem. But she remembered the -urgent look in his eyes in the hall when he had silenced -her questions and sank back in the seat, her gaze fixed -on the gloom of Hyde Park to their left, waiting for -him to speak. He sat rigidly beside her, his hands -clasped about his stick, his eyes peering straight before -him at the back of Stryker’s head. She felt his -restraint and a little bitterly remembered the cause -of it, buoyed by a hope that since he had thought it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -fit to enact a lie, the whole tissue of doubts which assailed -her might be based on misconception also. That -he was no coward she knew. More than one instance of -his physical courage came back to her, incidents of his -life before fortune had thrown them together and she -only too well remembered the time when he had jumped -from her car and thrown himself in front of a runaway -horse, saving the necks of the occupants of the -vehicle. He had lied to her. But why—why?</p> - -<p>She closed her eyes trying to shut out the darkness -and seek the sanctuary of some inner light, but she -failed to find it. It seemed as though the gloom which -spread over London had fallen over her spirit.</p> - -<p>“The City of Dreadful Night,” she murmured at -last. “I can’t ever seem to get used to it.”</p> - -<p>She heard his light laugh and the sound of it comforted -her.</p> - -<p>“Jolly murky, isn’t it? I miss that fireworks Johnny -pourin’ whiskey over by Waterloo Bridge—and Big -Ben. Doesn’t seem like London. All rot anyway.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t think there’s danger,” she asked cautiously.</p> - -<p>He hesitated a moment before replying. And then, -“No,” he said, “not now.”</p> - -<p>Silence fell over them again. It was as though a -shape sat between, a phantom of her dead hopes and -his, something so cold and tangible that she drew away -in her own corner and looked out at the meaningless -blur of the sleeping city. Her lips were tightly closed. -She had given him his chance to speak, but he had not -spoken and every foot of road that they traversed -seemed to carry them further apart. The end of their -journey—! Was it to be the end ... of everything -between them?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<p>After a while that seemed interminable she heard -his voice again.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you think I’m an awful rotter.”</p> - -<p>She turned her head and tried to read his face, but -he kept it away from her, toward the opposite window. -The feeling that she had voiced to Betty Heathcote -of wanting to “mother” him came over her in a warm -effusion.</p> - -<p>“Nothing that you can <em>say</em> to me will make me think -you one, Cyril,” she said gently.</p> - -<p>“Thanks awf’ly,” he murmured. And after a pause, -“I am though, you know.”</p> - -<p>She leaned forward impulsively and laid a hand on -his knee.</p> - -<p>“No. You’re acting strangely, but I know that -there’s a reason for it. As for your being a coward”—she -laughed softly—“it’s impossible—quite impossible -to make me believe that.”</p> - -<p>He laid his fingers over hers for a moment.</p> - -<p>“Nice of you to have confidence in a chap and all -that, but appearances are against me—that’s the difficulty.”</p> - -<p>“Why are they against you? Why should they be -against you? Because you—” She stopped, for -here she felt that she was approaching dangerous -ground. Instead of parleying longer, she used her -woman’s weapons frankly and leaning toward him put -an arm around his neck and compelled him to turn -his face to hers. “Oh, Cyril, won’t you tell me what this -mystery is that is coming between us? Won’t you let -me help you? I want to be in the sunlight with you -again. It can’t go on this way, one of us in the dark -and the other in the light. I have felt it for weeks. -When I spoke to you tonight about going to France it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -was in the hope that you might give me some explanation -that would satisfy me. My heart is wrapped up -in the cause of England, but if the German blood in -you is calling you away from your duties as an Englishman, -tell me frankly and I will try to forgive you, -but don’t let the shadow stay over us any longer, Cyril. -I must know the truth. What is the mystery that -hangs over you and makes——”</p> - -<p>“Mystery?” he put in quickly. “You’re a bit seedy, -Doris. Thinkin’ too much about the war. Nothin’ -mysterious about me.” He turned his head away from -her again. “People don’t like my sittin’ tight—here -in England,” he said more slowly, “when all the chaps -I know are off to the front. I—I can’t help it. That’s -all.”</p> - -<p>“But it’s so unlike you,” she pleaded. “It’s the -sporting thing, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“I want you to believe,” he put in slowly, “it isn’t -the kind of sport I care for.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t believe it. I can’t. I know you better than -that.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the trouble,” he insisted. “I’m afraid you -don’t know me at all.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know you tonight,” she said sadly. “It -almost seems as though you were trying to get rid -of me.”</p> - -<p>He clasped her tightly in his arms and kissed her -gently.</p> - -<p>“God forbid,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“Then tell me what it is that is worrying you,” she -whispered. “Not a living soul shall ever know. What -were the threats of exposure that passed between you -and Rizzio. He can’t bear you any illwill because I -chose you instead of him. I didn’t mean to listen but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -I couldn’t help it. What was the menace in his tone -to you? What is the danger that hangs over you that -puts you in his power? It’s my right to know. Tell -me, Cyril. Tell me.”</p> - -<p>She felt the pressure of the arm around her relax -and the sudden rigidity of his whole body as he drew -away.</p> - -<p>“I think you must have been mistaken in what -you say you heard,” he said evenly. “I told you that -it was a personal matter—a club matter in which you -couldn’t possibly be interested.”</p> - -<p>They were speaking formally now, almost as strangers. -She felt the indifference in his tone and couldn’t -restrain the bitterness that rose in hers.</p> - -<p>“One gentleman doesn’t threaten a club-mate with -exposure in a club matter unless—unless he has done -something discreditable—something dishonorable——”</p> - -<p>The Honorable Cyril bent his head.</p> - -<p>“You have guessed,” he said. “He—he is jealous. -He wants to humiliate me.”</p> - -<p>She laughed miserably. “Then why did you threaten -him?”</p> - -<p>“I had to defend myself.”</p> - -<p>“You! Dishonorable! I’ll have to have proofs of -that. What are the papers you have that he wants? -And what is there incriminating in Rizzio’s card-case? -You see, I heard everything.”</p> - -<p>“What else did you hear?” he asked quickly.</p> - -<p>She drew away from him and sank back heavily in -her corner.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” she muttered. “Isn’t that enough?”</p> - -<p>It seemed to the girl as though her companion’s -figure relaxed a little. And he turned toward her -gently.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Don’t bother about me. I’m not worth bothering -about. The worst of it is that I can’t make any explanation—at -least any that will satisfy you. All I -ask is that you have patience with me if you can, trust -me if you can, and try to forget—try to forget what -you have heard. If you should mention my conversation -with Rizzio it might lead to grave consequences -for him—for me.”</p> - -<p>The girl listened as though in a nightmare, the -suspicions that had been slowly gathering in her brain -throughout the evening now focusing upon him from -every incident with a persistence that was not to be -denied. The shape sat between them again, more tangible, -more cold and cruel than before. All his excuses, -all his explanations gave it substance and reality. -The phantom of their dead hopes it had been -before—now it was something more sinister—something -that put all thoughts of the Cyril she knew from -her mind—the shade of Judas fawning for his pieces -of silver—a pale Judas in a monocle.... She closed -her eyes again and tried to think. Cyril! It was -unbelievable.... And a moment ago he had kissed -her. She felt again the touch of his lips on her forehead.... -It seemed as though she too were being -betrayed.</p> - -<p>“You ask something very difficult of me,” she stammered -chokingly.</p> - -<p>“I can only ask,” he said, “and only hope that you’ll -take my word for its importance.”</p> - -<p>She shivered in her corner. The sound of his voice -was so impersonal, so different from the easy bantering -tone to which she was accustomed, that it seemed -that what he had said was true—that she did not know -him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p>Another surprise awaited her, for he leaned forward, -peering into the mirror beside the wind shield in front -of Stryker and turned and looked quickly out of the -rear window of the car. Then she heard his voice in -quick peremptory notes through the speaking-tube.</p> - -<p>“There’s a car behind us. Lose it.”</p> - -<p>The driver touched his cap and she felt the machine -leap forward. The thin stream of light far in front -of them played on the gray road and danced on the -dim façades of unlighted houses which emerged from -the obscurity, slid by and were lost again as the car -twisted and turned, rocking from side to side, moving -ever more rapidly toward the open country to the -north. The dark corners of cross streets menaced -for a moment and were gone. A reflector gleamed from -one, but they went by it without slowing, the signal -shrieking. A flash full upon them, a sound of voices -cursing in the darkness and the danger was passed! -At the end of a long piece of straight road Cyril -turned again and reached for the speaking-tube. But -his voice was quite cool.</p> - -<p>“They’re coming on. Faster, Stryker.”</p> - -<p>And faster they went. They had reached the region -of semi-detached villas and the going was good. The -road was a narrow ribbon of light reeling in upon its -spool with frightful rapidity. The machine was a -fine one and its usual well-ordered purr had grown -into a roar which seemed to threaten immediate disruption.</p> - -<p>Doris sat rigidly, clutching at the door sill and seat -trying to adjust her braced muscles to the task of -keeping upright. But a jolt of the car tore her grasp -loose and threw her into Cyril’s arms and there he -held her steadily. She was too disturbed to resist, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -lay quietly, conscious of the strength of the long arms -that enfolded her and aware in spite of herself of a -sense of exhilaration and triumph. Triumph with -Cyril! What triumph—over whom? It didn’t seem -to matter just then whom he was trying to escape. -She seemed very safe in his arms and very contented -though the car rocked ominously, while its headlight -whirled drunkenly in a wild orbit of tossed shadows. -The sportswoman in her responded to the call of speed, -the chance of accident, the danger of capture—for she -felt sure now that there was a danger to Cyril. Over -her shoulder she saw the lights of the pursuing machine, -glowing unblinkingly as though endowed with a -persistence which couldn’t know failure. Under the -light of an incandescent she saw that its lines were -those of a touring-car and realized the handicap of -the heavy car with its limousine body. But Stryker -was doing his best, running with a wide throttle picking -his road with a skill which would have done credit -to Cyril himself. The heath was already behind them. -At Hendon, having gained a little, Stryker put out his -lights and turned into a by-road hoping to slip away -in the darkness, but as luck would have it the moon -was bright and in a moment they saw the long spoke of -light swing in behind them.</p> - -<p>“Good driver, that Johnny,” she heard her companion -say in a note of admiration to Stryker. “Have -to run for it again.”</p> - -<p>The road was not so good here and they lost time -without the searchlights, so Stryker turned them on -again. This evasion of the straight issue of speed had -been a confession of weakness and the other car seemed -to realize it, for it came on at increased speed which -shortened the distance so that the figures of the occupants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -of the other were plainly discernible, five men in -all, huddled low.</p> - -<p>A good piece of road widened the distance. The -limousine, now thoroughly warmed, was doing the best -that she was capable of and the tires Cyril told her -were all new. Her question seemed to give him an idea, -for he reached for the flower vase and, thrusting out -a hand, jerked it back into the road.</p> - -<p>“A torn tire might help a little,” he said.</p> - -<p>But the fellow behind swerved and came faster.</p> - -<p>It was now a test of metal. Their pursuer lagged a -little on the levels but caught them on the grades and, -barring an accident, it was doubtful whether they -would reach the gates of Ashwater Park safely. She -heard a reflection of this in Cyril’s voice as he shouted -through the open front window.</p> - -<p>“How far by the road, Stryker?”</p> - -<p>“Five miles, I’d say, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Give her all she can take.”</p> - -<p>Stryker nodded and from a hill crest they seemed to -soar into space. The car shivered and groaned like a -stricken thing, but kept on down the hill without the -touch of a brake. They crossed a bridge, rattled from -side to side. Cyril steadied the girl in his arms and -held her tight.</p> - -<p>“Are you frightened?” he asked her.</p> - -<p>“No. But what is it all about?”</p> - -<p>Her companion glanced back to where the long -beams of light were searching their dust. When he -turned toward her his face was grave. He held her -closely for a moment, peering into her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Will you help me, Doris?” she heard him say.</p> - -<p>“But how? What can I do, Cyril?”</p> - -<p>He hesitated again, glancing over his shoulder.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Bally nuisance to have to drive you like this. -Wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t most important——”</p> - -<p>“Yes——”</p> - -<p>“They want something I’ve got——”</p> - -<p>“Papers?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll laugh when I tell you. Most amusin’—cigarette -papers!”</p> - -<p>“Cigarette——”</p> - -<p>“That’s all. I give you my word. Here they are.” -And reaching down into his trousers pocket he produced -a little yellow packet. “Cigarette papers, that’s -all. These chaps must be perishin’ for a smoke. -What?” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“But I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t necessary that you should. Take my word -for it, won’t you? It’s what they want. And I’m jolly -determined they’re not goin’ to get it.”</p> - -<p>“You want me to help you? How?”</p> - -<p>He looked back again and the lights behind them -found a reflection in his eyes. If, earlier in the evening -she had hoped to see him fully awake, she had her -wish now. He was quite cool and ready to take an -amused view of things, but in his coolness she felt a -new power, an inventiveness, a readiness to resort to -extremes to baffle his pursuers. Her apprehension -had grown with the moments. Who were these men in -the touring-car? Special agents of Scotland Yard? -She had never been so doubtful nor so proud of him. -Weighed in the balance of emotion the woman in her -decided it. She caught at his hand impulsively.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ll help—if I can—whatever comes.”</p> - -<p>He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them -gently.</p> - -<p>“Thank God,” he muttered. “I knew you would.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -He looked over his shoulder and then peered out in -search of familiar land-marks. They had passed Canons -Hill and swung into the main road to Watford. If -they reached there safely they would get to Ashwater -Park which was but a short distance beyond.</p> - -<p>She heard him speaking again and felt something -thrust into the palm of her hand.</p> - -<p>“Take this,” he said. “It’s what they want. They -mustn’t get it.”</p> - -<p>“But who are <em>they</em>?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Except that they’ve been sent by -Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>“Rizzio!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He’s not with them. This sort of game requires -chaps of a different type.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that they——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t be alarmed. They won’t hurt me and of -course they won’t hurt you. I’m going to get you out -of the way—with this. My success depends on you. -We’ll drive past the Park entrance close to wicket -gate in the hedge near the house. Just as we stop, -jump out, run through and hide among the shrubbery. -Your cloak is dark. They won’t see you. When -they’re gone, make your way to the house. It’s a -chance, but I’ve got to take it.”</p> - -<p>“And you?” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“I’ll get away. Don’t worry. But the packet. -Whatever happens don’t let them get the packet.”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said in a daze, “I won’t.”</p> - -<p>“Keep it for me, until I come. But don’t examine -it. It’s quite unimportant to anybody but me——” -he laughed, “that is, anybody but Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>She stared straight in front of her trying to think, -but thought seemed impossible. The speed had got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -into her blood and she was mastered by a spirit -stronger than her own. He held her in his arms again -and she gloried in the thought that she could help -him. Whatever his cause, her heart and soul were -in it.</p> - -<p>They roared into Watford and, turning sharp to -the left, took the road to Croxley Green. The machine -hadn’t missed a spark but the touring-car was creeping -up—was so close that its lights were blinding them. -Hammersley leaned forward and gave a hurried order -to Stryker. They passed the Park gates at full speed—the -wicket gate was a quarter of a mile beyond. -Would they make it? The touring-car was roaring up -alongside but Stryker jockeyed it into the gutter. -Voices were shouting and Doris got the gleam of something -in the hand of a tall figure standing up in the -other car. There followed shots—four of them—and -an ominous sound came from somewhere underneath as -the limousine limped forward.</p> - -<p>“It’s our right rear tire,” said Stryker.</p> - -<p>“Have we a spare wheel,” she heard Cyril say.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>“When we stop put it on as quick as you can. A -hundred yards. Easy—so and we’re there, Stryker. -Now. Over to the left and give ’em the road. Quick! -Now stop!”</p> - -<p>The other machine came alongside at their right and -the men jumped down just as Cyril threw open the -left-hand door and Doris leaped out and went through -the gate in the hedge.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> -<small>DANGEROUS SECRETS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Once within the borders of her father’s estate -and hidden in a clump of bushes near the -hedge, all idea of flight left Doris’s head. She -was home and the familiar scene gave her confidence. -From the middle of her clump of bushes grew a spruce -tree, and into it she quickly climbed until she reached a -point where she could see the figures in the road beside -the quivering machines. She had not been followed. -The five men were gathered around Cyril, who was -protesting violently at the outrage. They had not -missed her yet. Stryker was on his knees beside the -stricken wheel.</p> - -<p>“Come, now,” she heard the leader saying, “you’re -not to be hurt if you’ll give ’em up.”</p> - -<p>“Why, old chap, you’re mad,” Cyril was saying -coolly. “I was thinkin’ you wanted my watch. You -chase me twenty miles in the dead of night and then -ask me for cigarette papers. You’re chaffin’—what?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll find out soon enough,” said the tall man -gruffly. “Off with his coat, Jim.... Now search -him.”</p> - -<p>Cyril made no resistance. Doris could see his face -quite plainly. He was smiling.</p> - -<p>“Rum go, this,” he said with a puzzled air. “I only -smoke made cigarettes, you know.”</p> - -<p>But they searched him thoroughly, even taking off -his shoes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I say, stop it,” she heard him laugh. “You’re -ticklin’.”</p> - -<p>“Shut up, d—n you,” said the tall man, with a -scowl.</p> - -<p>“Right-o!” said Cyril, cheerfully. “But you’re wastin’ -time.”</p> - -<p>They found that out in a while and the leader of -the men straightened. Suddenly he gave a sound of -triumph.</p> - -<p>“The girl!” he cried and, rushing to the limousine, -threw open the door.</p> - -<p>“Gone!” he shouted excitedly. “She can’t be far. -Find her.”</p> - -<p>He rushed around the rear wheels of the limousine -and for the first time spied the gate in the hedge.</p> - -<p>“Tricked, by God! In after her, some of you.”</p> - -<p>“It won’t do a bit of good,” remarked Cyril. He -was sitting in the dirt of the middle of the road near -the front wheels of the machines. “She doesn’t smoke, -o’ chap. Bad taste, I call it, gettin’ a lady mixed up -in a hunt for cigarettes. Besides she’s almost home by -this. The house isn’t far. She lives there, you know.”</p> - -<p>In her tree Doris trembled. She was well screened -by the branches and she heard the crackle of footsteps -in the dry leaves as the searchers beat the bushes below -her, but they passed on, following the path toward -the house. As the sounds diminished in the distance -she saw Cyril still seated on the ground leaning against -the front wheels of the touring-car while he argued and -cajoled the men nearest him. Helping himself by a -wheel as he arose he faced the tall man who had come -up waving his revolver and uttering wild threats.</p> - -<p>“It won’t help matters calling me a lot of names,” -said Cyril, brushing the dust from his clothes. “You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -want something I haven’t got—that’s flat. I hope -you’re satisfied.”</p> - -<p>“Not yet. They’ll bring the girl in a minute. She -can’t have gone far.”</p> - -<p>Cyril glanced around him carelessly and brushed -his clothes again.</p> - -<p>He had discovered that Stryker had put on the -spare wheel and was parleying with one of their captors.</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well. Have your way. What more can -I do for you? If you don’t mind I’d like to be going -on.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll wait for the girl—here.”</p> - -<p>Doris watched Stryker skulking along in the shadow -of the limousine. She saw him reach his seat, heard a -grinding of the clutches and a confused scuffle out of -which, <a href="#image01">his blond hair disheveled, his shoulders coatless, -Cyril emerged</a> and leaped for the running-board of -the moving machine.</p> - -<p>“You forgot to search the limousine,” she heard him -shout.</p> - -<p>The tall man scrambled to his knees and fired at the -retreating machine while the others jumped for the -touring-car.</p> - -<p>It had no sooner begun to move than there was a -sound of escaping air and an oath from the chauffeur.</p> - -<p>“A puncture,” someone said. And Doris heard a -volley of curses which spoke eloquently of the sharpness -of Cyril’s pocket-knife.</p> - -<p>Doris in her hiding-place breathed a sigh of relief. -Cyril had gotten safely off, and his last words had created -a diversion in the camp of the enemy. They were -working furiously at the tire, but she knew that the -chance of coming up with Cyril again that night was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -gone. Now that the affair had resulted so favorably -to Cyril she began to regret her imprudence in remaining -to see the adventure to its end. Cyril had played -for time, and if she had followed his instructions she -could have gotten far enough away to have eluded her -pursuers. By this time, in all probability, she would -have been safe beneath the parental roof. The worst -of it was that Cyril thought her safe. The packet in -her glove burned in her hand. Beneath her, somewhere -between her refuge and the house were two men, -and how to pass them with her precious possession became -now the sole object of her thoughts. Cyril had -told her that the packet must under no circumstances -fall into the hands of their pursuers and the desperateness -of his efforts to elude them gave her a renewed -sense of her importance as an instrument for good or -ill in Cyril’s cause—whatever it might be. Now that -Cyril had gone she felt singularly helpless and small -in the face of such odds. For a moment she thought -of hiding the packet in the crotch of one of the -branches where she might come and reclaim it at her -leisure and go down and run the chance of being taken -without it. But the unpleasantness which might result -from such an encounter deterred her, and so she -sat, her chilly ankles depending, awaiting she knew not -what. She had almost reconciled herself to the thought -of spending several hours in this uncomfortable position -when the tall man in the road blew a blast on a -sporting whistle and soon the passing of footsteps -through the gate advised her that the men inside the -grounds had returned.</p> - -<p>This was her opportunity, and without waiting to -listen she dropped quietly down on the side of the tree -away from the gate and, stealing furtively along in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -the shadow of the hedge, made her way as quickly as -possible in the direction of the house. Out of breath -with exercise and excitement, when she reached a patch -of trees at the edge of the lawn, she stopped and looked -behind her. Then she blessed her luck in coming down -when she did, for she saw the thin ray of a pocket -light gleaming like a will-o’-the-wisp in her place of -concealment and knew that the search for her was -still on.</p> - -<p>Fear lent her caution. She skirted the edge of the -wide lawn in the shadow of the trees, running like a deer -across the moonlit spaces, always keeping the masses -of evergreens between her and the wicket gate until -she reached the flower garden, where she paused a moment -to get her breath. A patch of moonlight lay between -her and the entrance and the hedge was impenetrable. -There was no other way. She bent low and -hurried forward, trusting to the good fortune that -had so far aided her. Halfway across the open she -heard a shout and knew that she had been seen.</p> - -<p>There was nothing for it but to run straight for the -house. So catching her skirts up above her knees and -scorning the garden path which would have taken her -a longer way, she made straight for the terrace, the -main door of which she knew had been left open for her -return. Across the wide lawn in the bright moonlight -she ran, her heart throbbing madly, the precious yellow -packet clutched tightly against her palm. Out -of the tail of her eye she saw dark forms emerge from -the bushes and run diagonally for the terrace steps in -the hope of intercepting her. But she was fast, and -she blessed her tennis for the wind and muscle to stand -the strain. She was much nearer her goal than her -pursuers, but they came rapidly, their bulk looming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -larger every moment. She saw the lights and knew -that servants were at hand. Her father, too, was in -the library, for she saw the glow of his reading-lamp. -She had only to shout for help now and someone would -hear her. She tried to, but not a sound came from her -parching throat. With a last effort she raced up the -terrace steps, pushed open the heavy door and shut -and bolted it quickly behind her. Then sank into the -nearest piece of furniture in a state of physical collapse.</p> - -<p>Doris Mather did not faint, an act which might -readily have been forgiven her under the circumstances. -Her nerves were shaken by the violence of her exercise -and the narrowness of her escape, and it was some moments -before she could reply to the anxious questions -that were put to her. Then she answered evasively, -peering through the windows at the moonlit lawn and -seeing no sign of her pursuers. In a few moments she -drank a glass of water and took the arm of Wilson, -her maid, up the stairway to her rooms, after giving -orders to the servants that her father was not to be -told anything except that she had come in very tired -and had gone directly to bed.</p> - -<p>For the present at least Cyril’s packet was safe. -In her dressing-room Wilson took off her cloak and -helped her into bedroom slippers, not, however, without -a comment on the bedraggled state of her dinner -dress and the shocking condition of her slippers. But -Doris explained with some care that Mr. Hammersley’s -machine had had a blow-out near the wicket gate, that -she had become frightened and had run all the way -across the lawn. All of which was true. It didn’t -explain Mr. Hammersley’s deficiencies as an escort, -but Wilson was too well trained to presume further.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -A little sherry and a biscuit and Doris revived rapidly. -While the maid drew her bath she locked Cyril’s -cigarette papers in the drawer of the desk in her bedroom, -and when she was bathed and ready for the -night she dismissed Wilson to her dressing-room to -wait within call until she had gone to bed.</p> - -<p>Alone with her thoughts, her first act was to turn -out her lights and kneel in the window where she could -peer out through the hangings. It was inconceivable -that her pursuers would dare to make any attempt -upon the house, but even now she wondered whether it -would not have been wiser if she had taken her father -into her confidence and had the gardeners out to keep -an eye open for suspicious characters. But the motives -that had kept her silent downstairs in the hall -were even stronger with her now. She could not have -borne to discuss with her father, who had an extraordinary -talent for getting at the root of difficulties, the -subject of Cyril’s questionable packet of cigarette -papers. She was quite sure, from the adventure which -had befallen them tonight, and the mystery with which -Cyril had chosen to invest the article committed to -her care, that Cyril himself would not have approved -of any course which would have brought the packet or -his own actions into the light of publicity.</p> - -<p>The packet of cigarette papers! With a last scrutiny -of the landscape she pulled the shades and hangings -so that no ray of light could reach the outside of -the house, then groped her way across the room. A -thin line of light beneath the door of her dressing-room -showed that Wilson was still there. So she took -the precaution of locking that door as well as the others -leading to the upstairs hall, then went to her desk -and turned on her lamp. She unlocked the drawer of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -the desk and taking the small object gingerly in her -fingers, scrutinized it carefully. It was yellow in -color, quite new, bound with a small rubber band, a -very prosaic, a very harmless looking object to have -caused so much excitement and trouble to all who had -been concerned about it. She turned it over and -stretched its rubber band, snapping it thoughtfully -two or three times. Now for the first time since Cyril -had given it to her did she permit herself to think of -the hidden meanings the thing might possess. In the -machine, during the chase Cyril had won her unreservedly -to his side. As against the mysterious men -of John Rizzio Cyril’s cause had been the only one to -be considered. She had been carried off her feet and -there hadn’t been time to think of anything but the -real necessity of acceding to Cyril’s wishes in getting -the small object to a place of safety. Then it had only -been a packet of cigarette papers—a mere package of -Riz-la-Croix which everybody, for some reason or -other, seemed to want. Now, weighed lightly in her -hand, the seclusion of her room gave it a different -character. She recalled Cyril’s bantering tone at having -been chased twenty miles for a cigarette. But his -attitude deceived Doris no more than it had his pursuers. -There was material here for something more -deadly than cigarettes. She took the yellow packet -in both hands and pressed it to her temples as though -by this act she could pass its secrets into her own -brain. In spite of herself she was frightfully curious -and frightfully afraid.</p> - -<p>She got up and paced the floor rapidly. No—it -couldn’t go on. She must know the truth. As the key -of the one unopened room fascinated Blue Beard’s wife, -as the box fascinated Pandora, so this unopened yellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -packet plagued and fascinated Doris Mather. She -hesitated another long moment and then slipped off the -rubber band and opened it, trembling so that the first -leaf of paper came out in her fingers and fell to the -floor. She picked the paper up and examined it minutely, -holding it up to the light. There was nothing -unusual about it, no mark, no sign of any kind that -might indicate a secret mission. Leaf by leaf, slowly -at first and then more rapidly she went through the -leaves, examining each page back and front, without -success. It was not until she was almost half through -it that she came upon the writing—four pages written -lengthways in ink with a line too fine almost for legibility.</p> - -<p>She put the packet down for a moment, her heart -throbbing with excitement and incredulity, too apprehensive -to read, in mortal dread of a revelation which -was to change the whole course of her life and Cyril’s. -There was still time to close the book and go to bed. -Why did she sit there holding the thing open, stupidly -gazing at nothing? If Cyril——</p> - -<p>Yes, if Cyril was the unspeakable thing of her -doubts, it was time that she knew it and no compunctions -of honor should hold her with such a man. Besides -she had promised him nothing. Hesitating no -longer, she held the leaves under the light of her lamp -and slowly deciphered the thin script.</p> - -<p>At first she could make little of it, as it seemed to -consist of numerals which she couldn’t understand, -but here and there she made out the names of towns, -the names of regiments familiar to her and a series of -dates, beginning in March and ending in May. As the -meaning of the writing grew clearer to her, she read -on, her eyes distended with horror. Even a child could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -have seen that this was a list of the British forces -under arms, the proposed dates for the completion of -their equipment, training and departure for France. -When she had finished reading the written pages, her -inert fingers slowly turned the blank papers over to -the end. There was nothing more. God knows it was -enough! Cyril—the Honorable Cyril—a spy of the -Germans!</p> - -<p>She sank low in her armchair, her senses numb from -the horror of the revelation. Her thoughts became -confused like those of a sick person awaking from a -nightmare to a half consciousness, peopled with -strange beautiful images doing the dark things of -dreams. Cyril—<em>her</em> Cyril—a spy!</p> - -<p>What would happen now. And which way did duty -lie? Toward England or toward Cyril? She sat -crouched on the floor in an agony of misery at the -thought of Cyril’s baseness, the package of paper -clenched in her hand, trying to think clearly for England, -for Cyril, for herself, but the longer she battled -the deeper became her desperation and despair.</p> - -<p>The world seemed to be slipping away from her, the -orderly arrangement of her thoughts was twisted and -distorted so that wrong had become right and right -wrong. She had lost her standard of judgment. She -did not know which way to turn, so she bent her head -forward into her hands and silently prayed. There -seemed to be nothing else to do. For a long while she -remained prostrate by the window, her brain tortured, -her body stiff with weariness, until she could think no -more. Then slowly and painfully she rose and, still -clutching the yellow packet, groped her way to bed, -into which she fell exhausted in mind and body.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br /> -<small>THE PURSUIT CONTINUES</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">At eight o’clock Doris was awakened by a loud -knocking on the door leading to her dressing-room. -She had slept the sleep of utter exhaustion -and aroused herself with difficulty, a little bewildered -at the unusual sounds. Then she dimly remembered -locking the door and got quickly out of bed, -put the yellow packet in the drawer of her desk and -pushed back the bolt of the door.</p> - -<p>To her surprise her father confronted her and behind -him were other members of the family in various -stages of their morning toilets.</p> - -<p>“Thank the Lord,” said David Mather with a sigh -of relief.</p> - -<p>“What on earth is the matter?” asked the girl, -glancing from one to the other in alarm.</p> - -<p>Her father laughed. “Oh, nothing, now that you’re -all right. Burglars, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>Doris’s heart stopped beating as in a flash of reviving -memory the incidents of the night before came -quickly back to her.</p> - -<p>“Burglars!” she stammered.</p> - -<p>“Yes, they got in here—came up the water spout,” -pointing to the dressing-room window, “and a fine mess -they made of things. You’ll have to take account of -stock, child, and see how you stand.”</p> - -<p>She glanced around the disordered room, very much -alarmed. The drawers of her cupboards were all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -pulled out and their contents scattered about on the -floor.</p> - -<p>“When did—did it happen?” she asked timorously, -more because she had to say something than because -that was what she wanted to know.</p> - -<p>“Some time before dawn,” said her father. “Wilson -was here until three thinking that you might want -her and then went out to her own room in the wing.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I remember,” said the girl, passing her hand -across her eyes. “I wasn’t feeling very well—so I -asked her to stay here for a while. But I can’t understand -why I didn’t wake.”</p> - -<p>“That’s what frightened us,” Cousin Tom broke in. -“We were afraid the snoozers might have got in to -you——”</p> - -<p>“It’s lucky you had your door locked.”</p> - -<p>“They were at my library desk, too,” she heard her -father saying. “Must have gone down the hall from -here. But so far as I can see, they didn’t get anything.”</p> - -<p>Her Aunt Sophia gasped a sigh.</p> - -<p>“Thank the Lord,” she put in reverently. “At least -we’re all safe and sound.”</p> - -<p>Stunned at the daring of Rizzio’s men and bewildered -by the persistence with which they had followed -their quest while she was sleeping, Doris managed to -formulate a quick plan to hide the meaning of this -intrusion from the members of her family.</p> - -<p>She had been examining the disordered contents of -the upper drawers of a bureau.</p> - -<p>“My jewel case, fortunately, I keep in my bedroom,” -she said, “but there was an emerald brooch to -be repaired which I put in this drawer yesterday. It’s -gone.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - -<p>She saw a puzzled look come into the eyes of Wilson, -who stood near the window, and a glance passed between -them.</p> - -<p>“Oh, well,” her father said as he turned toward the -door, “we’re lucky it wasn’t worse. I’m ’phoning to -Watford for a constable.”</p> - -<p>This was what Doris had feared and yet she could -not protest. So she shut her lips firmly and let them -go out of the room, leaving her alone with Wilson.</p> - -<p>She knew that the woman was devoted to her and -that she was not in the habit of talking belowstairs, -but her mistress had seen the look of incredulity in the -woman’s eyes last night and the puzzled expression a -moment ago which indicated a suspicion connecting -Doris’s arrival in the Hall with the mysterious entrance -of the dressing-room. Doris knew that she -must tell her something that would satisfy her curiosity.</p> - -<p>“My bath please, Wilson,” she said coolly in order -to gain time. “And say nothing, you understand.”</p> - -<p>“Of course, Miss Mather,” said Wilson, with her -broad Kentish smile. “I wouldn’t ha’ dreamed of it.”</p> - -<p>The cool water refreshed and invigorated the girl, -and she planned skillfully. By the time Wilson -brought her breakfast tray she had already wrapped -the yellow packet of cigarette papers and her Cousin -Tom’s tobacco pouch in a pair of silk stockings surrounded -by many thicknesses of paper and in a disguised -handwriting had addressed it to Lady Heathcote -at her place in Scotland. She had also written -a note to Betty advising her of a change in plans and -of her intention to come to her upon the following day, -asking in a postscript twice underlined to keep a certain -package addressed to her and carefully described<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -safely under lock and key for her without opening -until her arrival. She would explain later.</p> - -<p>A gleam of hope had penetrated to her through the -gloom that encompassed her thoughts—only a gleam -at the best, but it was enough to give her courage to go -on with her efforts to save Cyril from immediate danger. -And this was the belief born of the forcible and -secret entry of the house that the men who were in -pursuit of the fateful packet were not in any way connected -with Scotland Yard or the War Office. Otherwise -if they believed the papers to be in her possession -they would have come boldly in the light of day and -demanded of her father the right to search the house. -These were not times when the War Office hesitated in -matters which concerned the public interest. John -Rizzio, for some reason which she could not fathom, -was acting upon his own initiative with a desire as -urgent as Cyril’s to keep his object secret.</p> - -<p>She pondered those things for a long while and then -with a sigh of uncertainty dismissed them from her -thoughts, which were too full of the immediate necessity -to carry out her carefully formulated plans. First -she called Wilson and after assuring herself that she -was making no mistake, took her partially into confidence, -telling her of the important paper intrusted by -Mr. Hammersley to her care which it was to the interest -of other persons to possess and the necessity for -getting them safely out of the house. Her mistress’s -confidences flattered the maid and she entered very -willingly into the affair, concealing the emerald brooch -which Doris produced from her jewel box, in a trunk -containing old clothes which had long stood neglected -in a dusty corner of the attic.</p> - -<p>After the visit of the man from Watford, who went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -over the situation with a puzzled brow and departed -still puzzled, she confided to her father the letter -and package which were to be mailed from London, -the letter in the morning, the package not until -night.</p> - -<p>“Don’t fail me, daddy. It’s <em>very</em> important——” -she said as she kissed him. “It’s a surprise for Betty, -but it mustn’t get to Scotland until tomorrow night -at the earliest. And good-by——” And she kissed -him again. “I’m going with it.”</p> - -<p>“Tonight?”</p> - -<p>“Tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Mather smiled and pinched her cheeks. He was -quite accustomed to sudden changes of plan on the -part of his daughter and would as soon have thought -of questioning them as he would the changes in the -weather. He hadn’t liked the idea of her hunting or -playing polo, but she had done them both and cajoled -him into approving of her. He had objected fearfully -when she went in for aviation, but had learned to watch -the flights of her little Nieuport with growing confidence -and had even erected a shed for her machines in -the meadow behind the stables.</p> - -<p>“Take care of yourself,” he said lightly. “You’re -looking a little peaky lately. If you don’t get rosier -I’ll withdraw my ambulance corps.”</p> - -<p>She laughed. “Don’t forget!” she flung after him -as he got into the car.</p> - -<p>With the departure of the yellow packet a weight -had been lifted from Doris’s mind. John Rizzio’s men -might come now if they liked—and she would invite -them to search the place. She was not in the least -afraid of herself, and she knew that the danger to -Cyril had passed—at least for the present.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p>She hoped that Cyril wouldn’t come today—or telephone -her. She wanted time to think of what she -should say to him. At moments it even seemed as -though she didn’t care if she ever saw him again. But -as the day passed and she had no word from him, she -grew anxious. What if Rizzio had told the War Office!</p> - -<p>That night men from Watford kept a watch upon -the house, but there was no disturbance. Her watchers -had evidently taken the alarm. But it was in no -very certain or very happy state that Doris drove her -machine out of the gate of the Park in the later afternoon -of the next day with her cousin Tom beside her -and Wilson and the luggage in the rear seat. The -main road to London was empty of vehicles except for -a man on a motor-cycle just ahead of her bound in the -same direction. At least, she was no longer to be -watched. There was plenty of time, so she drove -leisurely, reaching Euston Station with twenty minutes -to spare. She sent a wire to Lady Heathcote and -then Tom saw her safely into her carriage.</p> - -<p>The movement of the train soothed her and she -closed her eyes and slept, Wilson like a watchful Gorgon, -guarding against intrusion.</p> - -<p>There was but one incident which destroyed the -peace of the journey. Toward morning, Wilson, who -slept with one eye open, wakened her suddenly and -asked her quietly to look out of the window. Her -train had stopped at a large station, the platform of -which was well lighted. From the darkness of their -compartment she followed the direction of Wilson’s -figure. Outside, pacing the platform and smoking -cigarettes, were two men.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” asked Doris, half asleep.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The big one,” whispered Wilson excitedly. “It -was him that was ridin’ the motor-cycle.”</p> - -<p>Doris remembered passing and repassing the vehicle -on the road to London, and the face of its driver came -back to her. She peered out at him eagerly and as -the man turned she saw the face and figure of the -larger man clearly. It was the motor-cycle man, and -in a rush the thought came to her that his figure and -bearing were strangely familiar.</p> - -<p>“It’s true,” she whispered, her fingers on Wilson’s -arm. “We’re followed. It’s the same man. Last -night, too.”</p> - -<p>“Last night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. It’s the man called Jim, who searched Mr. -Hammersley in the road.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Wilson, her eyes brightening. “You -don’t say so, Miss Mather. Of all the brazen——”</p> - -<p>“Sh—” said Doris.</p> - -<p>But there was no more sleep for either of them that -night. Bolt upright, side by side, they watched the -dawn grow into sunrise and the sunrise into broad day. -They saw no more of the motor-cycle man and Doris -reassured herself that there was nothing to be feared -now that the packet was— She started in affright. -The packet at Betty Heathcote’s! Perhaps at this very -moment lying innocently in Betty’s post-box or in the -careless hands of some stupid Scotch gardener, or -worse yet inviting curiosity on Betty’s desk or library -table. Her heart sank within her as she realized that -her brave plans might yet miscarry.</p> - -<p>It was with a sense of joyous relief that the train -pulled at last into Innerwick Station. When she got -down she saw Betty Heathcote’s yellow brake, the four -chestnuts restive in the keen moorland air, and looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -very youthful and handsome in a brown coat which -made the symphony complete, the lady herself, the -wind in her cheeks and in her cheery greeting.</p> - -<p>“Of course, Doris, you’re to be trusted to do something -surprising. Oh, here’s Jack Sandys—you didn’t -know, of course.”</p> - -<p>The sight of these familiar faces gave Doris renewed -confidence, and when from the box seat she -glanced around in search of her pursuer he had disappeared.</p> - -<p>Sandys clambered up behind them. Wilson got into -the back seat with the grooms, the boxes went in between, -and they were off.</p> - -<p>“Constance was tired, Jack. At least she said she -was. I really think that all she wanted was to disappoint -you. Nothing like disappointment. It breeds -aspiration. But,” she added mischievously, “I’m sure -she’s <em>dying</em> to see you. Awf’ly sad—especially since -it’s not quite forty-eight hours since you were waving -a tearful good-by in Euston Station.”</p> - -<p>“Did you get my package?” whispered Doris in her -ear, at the first opportunity.</p> - -<p>“What package? Oh, yes, the stockings. It was -torn and awf’ly muddy. Higgins dropped it from the -dog-cart on the way over and had to go back for it. -Lucky he found it—in the middle of the road. What -a silly thing to make such a mystery of. And the -cigarette papers—you might be sure I’d have something -to smoke at Kilmorack House. I can’t understand. -You really <em>could</em> smoke here if you want to -without so much secrecy about it.”</p> - -<p>“I—I didn’t know,” stammered the girl. “I—I’ve -just taken it up and I thought you mightn’t approve.”</p> - -<p>Betty glanced at her narrowly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Whatever ails you, child? <em>I</em> disapprove! You -know I smoke when I feel like it—which isn’t often.”</p> - -<p>The subject fortunately was turned when they -passed the road to Ben-a-Chielt.</p> - -<p>“I always envied Cyril his cliffs. I love the sea and -Cyril hates it. ‘So jolly restless,’” she mimicked him. -“Makes one ‘quiggledy.’ And there I am—away inland—five -miles to the firth at the very nearest. But I -suppose,” she sighed, “one has to overlook the deficiencies -of one’s grandfather. If he had known I’d -have liked the sea, Cyril, of course, would have come -into <em>my</em> place.”</p> - -<p>With this kind of light chatter, of which Lady -Heathcote possessed a fund, their whip drove them -upon their way, her own fine spirits oblivious of the -silence of her companions. But at last she glanced -at them suspiciously. “If I didn’t know that you were -both hopelessly in love with other persons, I’d think -you were <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">épris</i> of each other.”</p> - -<p>Doris laughed.</p> - -<p>“We are. That’s why we chose opposite ends of -the train.”</p> - -<p>But Sandys only smiled.</p> - -<p>“Nothing that’s happening makes a chap happy -nowadays. I bring bad news.”</p> - -<p>Lady Heathcote relaxed the reins so that one of -her leaders plunged madly, while her face went white.</p> - -<p>“Not Algy——”</p> - -<p>“No, no—forgive me. He’s safe. I’ve kept watch -of the bulletins.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” said Lady Heathcote, and sent her -whiplash swirling over the ears of the erring leader.</p> - -<p>“Not Algy—Byfield——”</p> - -<p>“Byfield—not dead——?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No. Worse.”</p> - -<p>“What——?”</p> - -<p>“In prison. He was taken into custody yesterday -afternoon as he was leaving the War Office. Orders -from ‘K.’”</p> - -<p>“You can’t mean that Richard Byfield is——”</p> - -<p>Sandys nodded quickly.</p> - -<p>“Yes. He was one of the leaks—a spy.”</p> - -<p>“A spy!” Betty Heathcote whispered in awestricken -tones. “A spy—Dick! Horrible! I can’t—I -won’t——”</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately there’s not the least doubt about -it. They found incriminating evidence at his -rooms.”</p> - -<p>“My God!” said Lady Heathcote. “What are -we coming to? Dick Byfield—why, two nights -ago he was a guest at my table—with you, and -you——”</p> - -<p>Doris nodded faintly, the landscape swimming in a -dark mist before her eyes. Byfield—Cyril—Rizzio—all -three had been at Lady Heathcote’s dinner. Something -had happened that night—only a part of which -she knew. Byfield was arrested—and Cyril—— She -clutched desperately at the edge of the seat and set -her jaw to keep herself from speaking Cyril’s name.</p> - -<p>“Were there—any others?” she asked, with an -effort.</p> - -<p>“None so far. But there must have been others. -God help them! They won’t get any mercy.”</p> - -<p>“But what made him do such a thing?” asked Betty. -“I could have sworn——”</p> - -<p>“Money—lots of it. He wasn’t very well off, you -know.”</p> - -<p>They were swinging over the ridge towards Kilmorack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -House in a tragic silence mocked by the high jubilant -notes of the coach horn which the groom was -winding to announce their approach.</p> - -<p>Doris got down swiftly, summoning her courage to -be silent and wait. In the drawing-room when the -news was told, Constance Joyliffe added another note -of gloom.</p> - -<p>“We’re going to be a lively party,” said Lady -Heathcote bitterly. “Thank the Lord, John Rizzio -is coming.”</p> - -<p>“Rizzio!”</p> - -<p>Doris flashed around, her terror written so plainly -that anyone might read.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I had his wire at Innerwick when I was waiting -for you.” And then catching the girl by the arm, -“Why, dear, what is the matter?”</p> - -<p>“I—I think I’ll go up to my room if you don’t -mind, Betty. I won’t have any luncheon. A cup of -tea is all.” She moved toward the door, her hand in -Lady Heathcote’s. “And Betty—the package, please—I—I -think it may soothe me to smoke.”</p> - -<p>Betty examined her quizzically but made no comment, -though she couldn’t understand such a strange -proceeding in a girl who was accustomed to do exactly -as she pleased. She got the package from her -desk in the library and handed Doris the silk stockings, -tobacco, and the yellow packet. The wrapping paper -which had been soiled had been relegated to the scrap-basket.</p> - -<p>“And Betty——” pleaded Doris as she quickly took -them, “promise me that you won’t tell John Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>Lady Heathcote glanced at her quickly and then -laughed.</p> - -<p>“I suppose I’m the least curious woman in Scotland,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -she laughed, “but I would really like to -know——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t ask me, Betty,” Doris pleaded. “I’ve a reason—a -silly one, perhaps, but I ask you—not to -speak of this—to anyone.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well,” said Lady Heathcote, “I won’t. -But don’t be mysterious. All mysteries nowadays are -looked on with suspicion. Even such an innocent little -mystery”—and she laughed—“as a package of cigarette -papers.”</p> - -<p>Doris made some light reply and went to her room, -where, with the doors locked, she quickly examined the -packet to be sure that it had not been tampered with. -Nothing seemed to have been changed and she gave -a sigh of relief to think that thus far her secret had -escaped detection. It was very clear to her now that -John Rizzio had decided that the secret information -was in her possession and that his visit was planned -with the object of getting it away from her. This -should never be. By the light of the window she read -and re-read the thin script until the lines were etched -upon her memory. She would burn the papers if they -were in danger. If Cyril was to meet Captain Byfield’s -fate, it would be upon other evidence than this. -Her hands, at least with regard to Cyril, must be -clean.</p> - -<p>A knock upon the door and she hurriedly thrust the -packet under a table cover and answered. It was the -maid with her tea, and upon the tray lay a note in an -unfamiliar handwriting. When the maid had gone -she tore the flap and read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Mr. Hammersley begs that Miss Mather will not -be unduly alarmed upon his account. Business of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -an urgent nature has detained him but he assures -her that he will join her at the earliest possible moment. -He begs that she will be careful.</p></div> - -<p>There was no signature and the handwriting was -curious—like none to which she was accustomed, but -the message seemed somehow to sound like Cyril. She -rang for the maid, questioned her, and found that the -note had just come over by messenger from Ben-a-Chielt.</p> - -<p>When the maid went down, Doris re-read the -message thankfully. Cyril was safe—at least for the -present. And her relief in the knowledge was the true -measure of her relation to him. Whatever else he was, -he was the man she had promised to marry—the man -who a little later would have been hers for better or -for worse. And between Cyril and John Rizzio it had -not been difficult to choose. It did not seem difficult -now.</p> - -<p>She took up the packet of papers and paused before -the open fire, a smile playing for the first time at -the corners of her lips. John Rizzio! He was clever, -as she knew, but there was more than one way of playing -the game. Perhaps with her John Rizzio might -be at a disadvantage. She hesitated a moment and -then—pulled up her skirts and slipped the yellow -packet into her stocking.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br /> -<small>RIZZIO TAKES CHARGE</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Rizzio was to arrive that night. Meanwhile, -with the papers hidden about her and bright -fires burning in all the living-rooms of the -house in which they could in a moment be destroyed, -Doris thought herself well placed upon the defensive. -Cyril’s note had cheered her, and after removing the -dust of her journey she went down into the library, -where she joined the other members of the house party -assembled. Black seemed to be the prevailing color, -for, in addition to the weeds of Lady Constance, there -was Wilfred Hammersley, Cyril’s uncle, who had lost -an only son at La Bassée, and the Heatherington girls, -who had lost a brother.</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” Lady Betty was saying. “I came to Scotland -to try and forget, but the war follows me. Dick -Byfield a traitor! Who next? Let’s not even speak -of it. Come, I’ve ordered the brake, Doris. We’re -going out for a spin. You and I and Angeline. Constance -of course has a headache, and Jack will be -having another for sympathy.”</p> - -<p>The air outside was life-giving, and when she returned -later Doris felt that her brain had been swept -clear of its cobwebs of perplexity. She found Wilson -standing in her room gazing with a puzzled expression -at the tray of her unpacked box, the contents of -which were in a state of confusion.</p> - -<p>“It’s strange, Miss Mather. Someone has been at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -your things while I was down in the servants’ hall at -luncheon.”</p> - -<p>“You’re sure?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Mather, sure. Quite positive, in fact. -Those waists were lying flat when I left.”</p> - -<p>“The window wasn’t open?” asked Doris with a -glance around.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, Miss.” She looked about and lowered her -voice. “It’s somebody inside.”</p> - -<p>“Curious,” said Doris thoughtfully. “Nothing has -been taken? Is the jewel box there?”</p> - -<p>Together they examined the things and found that -nothing was missing.</p> - -<p>“Say nothing about this, Wilson,” said Doris -thoughtfully. “Unless something is taken, I shouldn’t -care to disturb Lady Heathcote.”</p> - -<p>“It can’t be——” Wilson paused, her voice hushed.</p> - -<p>“The papers are safe, Wilson—as long as I am -safe,” replied the girl, and told the maid of her place -of concealment.</p> - -<p>Wilson looked dubious. “I wish you’d give them -to me, Miss Mather.”</p> - -<p>But the girl shook her head—she was thoroughly -alive now to the perils which hung about her, here -within the very doors of Lady Heathcote’s house, but -she had determined that if she could not find it possible -to keep the papers until Cyril appeared she -would destroy them. She was not frightened, for however -clumsy John Rizzio’s agents might be she was -in no danger from himself. Whatever the interests -which made the possession of the yellow packet so -vital, she knew the man well enough to be sure that -if there came an issue between them, he would act with -her as he had always acted—the part of a gentleman.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> - -<p>Instead of apprehension at his approaching visit -she now felt only interest and a kind of suppressed exhilaration -as at the prospect of a flight in a new plane -or the trying out of a green hunter—excitement like -that which preceded all her sportive ventures.</p> - -<p>So that when she met John Rizzio in the drawing-room -after dinner—he had not been able to manage -a more opportune train—she gave him a warm hand-clasp -of greeting and a smile which caused him some -surprise and not a little regret—surprise that she was -carrying off a difficult situation with consummate ease; -regret that such self-possession and artistry were not -to be added to the ornaments of his house in Berkeley -Square. Perhaps still——</p> - -<p>“How agreeable,” she was saying charmingly. “The -great man actually condescends to come to the land -of Calvin, oatcake and sulphur, when there are truffles -and old Madeira still to be had in London.”</p> - -<p>He laughed, his dark eyes appraising her slender -blond beauty eagerly.</p> - -<p>“I have no quarrel with Calvin. Oatcake—by all -means. Sulphur—er—I suppose the sulphur will come -in time.”</p> - -<p>“Not if you’re polite,” said the girl coolly, “and -tell me what brought you so unexpectedly to Scotland.”</p> - -<p>They were standing near the fire apart from the -others, Doris with one slipper on the fender, which -she was regarding approvingly, her head upon one side. -He admired her careless tone. She was quite wonderful.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you will not believe me,” he said suavely, -“if I were to tell you that I came to see you.”</p> - -<p>“Me? I <em>am</em> flattered. I thought that great collectors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -were always deterred by fear of the spurious.”</p> - -<p>She was carrying the war into his camp. He met -the issue squarely. “They are <em>only</em> deterred by the -spurious. Therefore I am here. The inference is obvious.”</p> - -<p>He had always showed the slightest trace of his -foreign accent. It went admirably with his shrug and -mobile fingers.</p> - -<p>“I am genuine in this,” she laughed, “that however -much you know about pictures, about <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">objets de vertu</i>—women -must remain for you and for all other men -an unknown quantity.”</p> - -<p>“Not when they are both,” he said gallantly.</p> - -<p>“There are good and bad pictures—objects of virtue, -excessively ugly——”</p> - -<p>“Objects of virtue are usually excessively ugly, especially -if they are women.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” said Doris. “You’re most flattering. -There’s something in the air of Scotland that makes -one tell the truth.”</p> - -<p>He laughed. “If Scotland is as merciless as that, I -shall be off in the morning. I could imagine no worse -purgatory than a place in which one always tells the -truth. Lying is one of the highest arts of a mature -civilization. I haven’t the slightest notion, nor have -you, that either of us means a thing he says. We -were all born to deceive—some of us do it in one way, -some in another, but we all do it to the very best of -our bent. For instance, you said a while ago that it -was agreeable for you to see me. But I’m quite sure, -you know, that it wasn’t.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t agreeable if you’re going to be horrid and -cynical. Why <em>shouldn’t</em> I be glad to see you? You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -always stimulate my intelligence even if you don’t flatter -it.”</p> - -<p>The others had moved on to the library and they -had the room to themselves.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how I could flatter it more than I have -already done,” he said in a low tone of voice.</p> - -<p>She raised her chin a trifle and peered at him slantwise.</p> - -<p>“Do you think that you flatter it now when you recall -the mistakes of my past?”</p> - -<p>He searched her face keenly but her blue eyes met his -gaze steadily. She was smiling up at him guilelessly.</p> - -<p>“A mistake—of course,” he said slowly. “You are -young enough to afford to make mistakes. But I am -old enough to wish that it hadn’t been made at my -expense.”</p> - -<p>“You still care?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“I do.”</p> - -<p>“If I hadn’t thought that you wanted me for your -collection——”</p> - -<p>“You are cruel——”</p> - -<p>“No. I know. You wanted me for your portrait -harem, and I should have been frightfully jealous of -the Coningsby Venus. I couldn’t compete with that -sort of thing, you know.”</p> - -<p>He smiled at her admiringly and went on in a low -tone.</p> - -<p>“You know why I wanted you then, and why I want -you now—because you’re the cleverest woman in England, -and the most courageous.”</p> - -<p>“It took courage to refuse the hand of John Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>“It takes more courage in John Rizzio to hear those -words from the lips that refused him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - -<p>She laid her hand gently on his arm.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” she said.</p> - -<p>He bent his head and kissed her fingers.</p> - -<p>“It is not the Coningsby Venus who is essential to -my happiness,” he whispered. “It’s the Doris Diana.”</p> - -<p>She laughed.</p> - -<p>“That’s the disillusionment of possession.”</p> - -<p>“No. The only disillusionments of life are its failures—I -got the Venus by infinite patience. The Diana——” -He paused and drew in his breath.</p> - -<p>“You think that you may get the Diana by patience -also?” she asked quietly.</p> - -<p>He looked at her with a gaze that seemed to pierce -all her subterfuges.</p> - -<p>“I waited for the Coningsby Venus,” he said in -measured tones, “until the man who possessed her—was -dead.”</p> - -<p>She started, and the color left her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“You mean—Cyril?” she stammered.</p> - -<p>“I mean,” he replied urbanely, “precisely nothing—except -that I will never give you up.”</p> - -<p>She recovered her poise with an effort, and when -she replied she was smiling gayly.</p> - -<p>“I’m not at all sure that I want to be given up,” -she said, with a laugh that was meant to relax the -tension. “You are, after all, one of the best friends -I have.”</p> - -<p>“I hope that nothing may ever happen to make you -think otherwise.”</p> - -<p>Was this a threat? She glanced at him keenly as -she quoted:</p> - -<p>“‘Friendship is constant in all other things save -in the office and affairs of love.’ May I trust you?”</p> - -<p>“Try me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, I might put you to a test that would be difficult.”</p> - -<p>“Try me.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, I will. Go back to London in the morning.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her and laughed.</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“It will be easier for you to be patient there than -here——”</p> - -<p>“When Hammersley comes?”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she said quickly, “then he <em>is</em> coming?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know why he shouldn’t,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p>There was a pause.</p> - -<p>“Shall you go?”</p> - -<p>“To London? I’ll think about it.”</p> - -<p>“There! You see? You refuse my first request.”</p> - -<p>“I would like to know your purpose.”</p> - -<p>“I think you know it already,” she put in quickly. -“You want something that I cannot give you—something -that is not mine to give.”</p> - -<p>She had come out into the open defiantly and he -met her challenge with a laugh.</p> - -<p>“Because it is Hammersley’s?” he said. “You think -so and Hammersley thinks so, and possession is nine -points of the law. But I will contest.”</p> - -<p>“Your visit is vain. Go back to London, my -friend.”</p> - -<p>“I find it pleasanter here.”</p> - -<p>“Then you refuse?”</p> - -<p>“I must.”</p> - -<p>“Then it is war between us.”</p> - -<p>“If you will have it so,” he said, with an inclination -of the head. Doris put her foot on the fender and -leaned with her hands upon her knee for a moment as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -though in deep thought. Then she turned toward the -door.</p> - -<p>“Come,” she said coolly. “Let us join the others.”</p> - -<p>There was a relief in the thought that at least they -had come to an understanding and that the matter of -the possession of the papers had at last become a -private contest between them. She had brought the -interview to an end not because she was afraid to -continue it but because she wanted to think of a plan -to disarm him. She felt that she was moving in the -dark but she trusted to her delicate woman’s sense of -touch to stumble upon some chance, some slip of his -tongue, which might lead her into the light.</p> - -<p>In the drawing-room by common consent all talk of -war had been abolished. She sat in at a hand of auction, -but playing badly, she was gladly relinquished by -her partner at the end of the rubber. John Rizzio, -who disliked the game, had gone off for a quiet smoke, -but when she got up from the card table he was there -waiting for her.</p> - -<p>“Cyril shall know of this,” laughed Betty, as they -went toward the door. “They say that absence makes -the heart grow fonder—of the other fellow.”</p> - -<p>Doris led the way to the gun-room, a place used by -Algie Heathcote for his sporting implements and trophies -of the chase. It was comfortably furnished in -leather and oak and a cheerful fire was burning in -the grate. Doris sank into the davenport and motioned -to her companion to the place at her side. She -was thoroughly alive to her danger, but the sportswoman -in her made her keen to put it to the test.</p> - -<p>“We are quite alone here,” she said coolly. “The -others are not even within call. Now what do you -want of me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her audacity rather startled him, but he folded his -arms and leaned back smiling.</p> - -<p>“The papers of Riz-la-Croix, of course,” he said -amiably.</p> - -<p>“And how do you know they’re in my possession?”</p> - -<p>He shrugged.</p> - -<p>“Because they couldn’t possibly be anywhere else.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know?”</p> - -<p>“Because I have exhausted every other resource.”</p> - -<p>“You’re frank at least—including the burglary at -Ashwater Park and the messing in my box upstairs?”</p> - -<p>“And since you must know the full truth,” he continued -politely, “the careful search of your room in -your absence this evening—including the removal of -the rugs and bedding. Oh, don’t be disturbed, I beg -of you,” as she made a movement of alarm, “they have -all been replaced with a nice care for detail.”</p> - -<p>“And if I told Lady Heathcote of this——”</p> - -<p>“I am quite sure that the best interests of all,” he -said politely, “are conserved—by silence.”</p> - -<p>She meditated a moment, her gaze on the coals.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said slowly, “you’re clever—more than -ordinarily clever. I can’t understand how I could ever -have refused you. But don’t you think your methods -have been a little—er—unchivalrous?”</p> - -<p>“The importance of my objects admitted of no delay. -I hope you have not been inconvenienced——”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” calmly. “My recollection of -your many civilities merely made me think that your -agents were overzealous.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” he said genuinely. “It could not be -helped. You and I are merely pawns in a game greater -than anything the world has ever known.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I didn’t want you to apologize. I merely thought -in order to avoid comment that you might have come -to me yourself.”</p> - -<p>“I thought I might save you the unpleasantness of -a controversy which can only have one end.”</p> - -<p>“You mean—that you will win.”</p> - -<p>“I do.”</p> - -<p>“How?”</p> - -<p>“You will give me the papers—here, tonight.”</p> - -<p>“And if I told you that I had destroyed them?”</p> - -<p>“That would be manifestly untrue, since at the -present moment in the position of your body their outline -is quite clearly defined on the inside of your right -knee.”</p> - -<p>Doris put both slippers upon the ground, her feet -together, her face flushing warmly.</p> - -<p>“I hope you will forgive my frankness,” she heard -him say gently, “but the method of your challenge—is—unusual.”</p> - -<p>She clasped her hands around her knees and -frowned into the fire.</p> - -<p>“You mistake, I think, my friend. It is not a challenge. -It is merely a method of defense—the safest, -I am sure, against John Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>He bowed low with deep ceremony.</p> - -<p>“Of course, I am helpless.” And then, “I can only -rely on your good sense and”—here his voice sunk a -note lower—“and on your loyalty to the cause of England.”</p> - -<p>This was the opening that she had been waiting for. -She thrust quickly.</p> - -<p>“And if the cause is England’s why didn’t Scotland -Yard come to Ashwater Park?”</p> - -<p>“Dunsinane to Burnam Wood!” he shrugged. “They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -would have made asinine mistakes as they always do—the -chief of which would have been that of denouncing -Miss Doris Mather as an agent of England’s enemies.”</p> - -<p>The girl tapped her toe reflectively upon the rug.</p> - -<p>“I won’t attempt subterfuge. Of course, I know the -contents of that packet.”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t be a woman if you didn’t.”</p> - -<p>“And how it was passed from Captain Byfield to -Cyril Hammersley.” This was a random shot but it -hit the mark. Rizzio’s eyes dilated slightly, but she -saw them.</p> - -<p>“Byfield! Impossible.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. Cyril told me,” she lied.</p> - -<p>“He told you——?” he paused aghast, for now she -was laughing at him.</p> - -<p>“No—but you have.”</p> - -<p>His brow tangled and he folded his arms again.</p> - -<p>“Of course, you know the importance to Cyril and -Captain Byfield of keeping such a matter secret.”</p> - -<p>He had not heard! He did not know! She remembered -that the subject of the dreadful news from London -had not been reopened and Jack Sandys’ sources -of information were probably semiofficial.</p> - -<p>She controlled her voice with an effort.</p> - -<p>“I would hardly be the one to mention names under -the circumstances—since my own fortunes seem -to be involved in the matter, but as for Captain Byfield, -I’m afraid that further secrecy will hardly help -him.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Merely that he was arrested late yesterday afternoon -as he was leaving the War Office.”</p> - -<p>She had not counted on the effect she created. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -knew that her last thrust had put him more carefully -on guard, but he could not hide the sudden intake of -breath and the quick searching glance his dark eyes -shot at her.</p> - -<p>“What is your source of information?”</p> - -<p>“Jack Sandys. He came here directly from Downing -Street.”</p> - -<p>She saw Rizzio’s lips meet under his mustache in a -thin line.</p> - -<p>“So. It has come sooner—than I expected.”</p> - -<p>He got up and paced the floor, his fingers twitching -behind his back. She said nothing, waiting for him -to rejoin her. When he did, it was with a serious expression.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you know what this means to—to Hammersley,” -he said in a low voice.</p> - -<p>Doris sat without moving, but her brain was busy -weighing Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“No,” she replied calmly, “I don’t. Won’t you tell -me?”</p> - -<p>He leaned forward toward her along the back of -their seat, his look and voice concentrated upon her.</p> - -<p>“Is it possible,” he continued, “that you haven’t -realized by this time exactly what Cyril Hammersley -is?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said staunchly. “I will believe nothing -of him unless he tells it to me himself.”</p> - -<p>He waited a moment, watching her, and fancied that -he saw her lips tremble slightly. Her loyalty to Hammersley -inflamed him. He followed up his advantage -quickly.</p> - -<p>“There are reasons why I should dislike to give -you pain, greater reasons why I should be generous -with a successful rival, and I have done what I can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -to take this matter out of your hands. There is still -time. Will you give me that packet?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“Then I must speak,” he went on. “My duty demands -it, whatever happens to him—whatever happens -to you. Don’t make me go to extremes with you. -I cannot bear to do it. Hammersley is a German spy. -Those papers were to be forwarded to Germany. You -are saving them for him, that he may betray England.”</p> - -<p>“That is not true,” she said chokingly. “I do not -believe it.”</p> - -<p>“You must. Isn’t there proof enough in what you -have read?”</p> - -<p>“There is some mistake.”</p> - -<p>“No. There can’t be. Your sentiments are blinding -you.”</p> - -<p>“One moment, please.” Doris had risen and faced -him across the hearth, a new fire of resolution in her -eyes. To Rizzio, the lover of beauty, she was a mockery -of lost happiness. She was Diana, not the huntress -but the hunted.</p> - -<p>“You have told me what Cyril Hammersley is. Now -if you please I would like to know what <em>you</em> are!”</p> - -<p>He paused a moment and then with a step toward -her said gently:</p> - -<p>“I think my interests should be fairly obvious. I -am acting for the English Government.”</p> - -<p>“I have only your word for it. Have you any papers -that would prove it—in your card-case, for instance?”</p> - -<p>He started back, his fingers instinctively reaching -upward. Then he shrugged and laughed.</p> - -<p>“You are surely the most amazing person. Unfortunately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -I have no documents. I am only doing -my duty as a private citizen—a loyal resident of the -Empire.”</p> - -<p>“But not a Briton. Neither am I. We meet on -equal terms.”</p> - -<p>“Then you refuse me—definitely, finally.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I must.”</p> - -<p>“I beg that you will consider carefully the alternatives. -If you give me the papers—silence on my part—safety -for Hammersley. If you refuse to give them -up——” he paused.</p> - -<p>“Then what will you do?” she defied him.</p> - -<p>“It would be the most terrible moment of my life—but -I will denounce him—here tonight—tomorrow in -London. Those papers must not reach Germany—even -if I have to denounce you, too.”</p> - -<p>“And if I promise that the papers will not reach -Germany?”</p> - -<p>He hesitated a moment.</p> - -<p>“There is too much at stake. I can’t take the risk. -No woman can be trusted——”</p> - -<p>“Not even the woman John Rizzio would have made -his wife?”</p> - -<p>He moved his shoulders expressively. Her youth -and cleverness were bewildering him.</p> - -<p>“No, that will not do,” he said in desperation. “You -must give me the papers.”</p> - -<p>“I will not. You shall have to take them from -me.”</p> - -<p>He leaned toward her along the mantel aware of her -dominant loveliness.</p> - -<p>“You would not drive me to that!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. It <em>is</em> a challenge. I offer it. I will fight -you, and I am strong. I have a voice and I will raise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -an outcry. They will come and I will tell them. Then -you can denounce me? Will you dare?”</p> - -<p>He came toward her while she fled around the davenport, -eluding him with ease. She was swifter of foot -than he. He stopped a moment near the gun-rack to -plead. She kept the huge oak lounge between them -and listened by the fire. Something she saw in his -eyes decided her, for as he came forward to leap over -the davenport she threw something yellow toward him.</p> - -<p>He gave a gasp of relief, picked the object up and -made a cry of dismay.</p> - -<p>“The cover! I must have the papers,” he cried, -coming forward again.</p> - -<p>By this time the girl was standing upright, a poker -in one hand, the thin cigarette papers cramped in the -fingers of the other, over the open fire.</p> - -<p>Rizzio paused in the very act of leaping.</p> - -<p><a href="#image02">“Not that,” he whispered hoarsely, “for God’s sake—not -that.”</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"> -<a id="image02"> - <img src="images/image02.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_82">“‘Not that,’ he whispered hoarsely, ‘for God’s -sake—not that.’”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“Stay where you are, then,” said the girl in a low -resolute tone.</p> - -<p>Rizzio straightened. Doris still bent over the fire.</p> - -<p>“Give it to me,” he said again.</p> - -<p>“No. England’s secrets shall be safe.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you understand?” he whispered wildly. “I’ve -got to prove that they are.”</p> - -<p>“I can prove that as well as you——”</p> - -<p>“But you won’t. Hammersley is——”</p> - -<p>He paused and both of them straightened, listening. -Outside in the hall there was a commotion and a familiar -voice as the Honorable Cyril, his face and fur coat -spattered with mud, came into the room.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br /> -<small>AN INTRUDER</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">He looked from one to the other with a quickly -appraising eye. The girl was fingering the -lace of her bodice. Rizzio had turned toward -the newcomer recovering his poise.</p> - -<p>“Hope I’m not intrudin’,” said Hammersley, with -a laugh.</p> - -<p>“Well, hardly. You’ve come in a hurry.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” drawled Hammersley. “I missed your train, -I think. Too bad. Jolly slow work travelin’ alone. -Stryker picked me up at Edinburgh and we came -on by motor.”</p> - -<p>He took off his fur coat in leisurely fashion and -crossing to the fireplace took Doris’s proffered hand. -“You had my note?” he asked carelessly.</p> - -<p>The girl nodded. “I was glad,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m here. Jolly happy, too. Had a narrow -squeak of it, though. Some bally idiot stretched rope -across the road over by Saltham Rocks, but we saw it -in time, and went around. Fired a few shots at us, -too. Must have taken me for Rizzio. What?” he -laughed.</p> - -<p>Thus directly appealed to, Rizzio smiled grudgingly.</p> - -<p>“You don’t ask me to believe that story, Hammersley,” -he said dryly.</p> - -<p>“You don’t have to, Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>The girl’s look was fixed on Hammersley’s face. -Suddenly she broke in with a voice of alarm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Cyril—you’re hurt—and there’s blood on your -coat——”</p> - -<p>“Is there? By Jove, so there is—it doesn’t matter. -I wouldn’t mind a peg though—and a cigarette.”</p> - -<p>Doris had started for the door in alarm.</p> - -<p>“Wait!” Hammersley’s voice came sharply. And as -she paused, “Ring, Doris.”</p> - -<p>She understood and touched the button beside the -door.</p> - -<p>“We might as well have an understanding before -they come, Rizzio,” put in Hammersley quickly. “Do -you prefer to believe my story—or would you like -to invent one of your own?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio shrugged. “As you please,” he said. “It -seems that I am <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">de trop</i> here.” At the door he paused -and finished distinctly. “I hope that your explanations -will prove satisfactory.”</p> - -<p>Doris had helped Cyril off with his coat and by the -time the maid brought Betty Heathcote, had cut away -the sleeve of his shirt with Cyril’s pocket knife. It -was merely a gash across the upper arm, which a -bandage and some old-fashioned remedies would set -right.</p> - -<p>Lady Heathcote heard the story (from which Hammersley -eliminated the rope) with amazement, and was -for sending at once for the local constabulary.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s hardly worth while,” said the Honorable -Cyril, sipping his whiskey and water, comfortably. -“Poor devils—out of work, I fancy. Wanted my -money. If they’d come to Ben-a-Chielt tomorrow -I’d give it to ’em. But I wouldn’t mind, Betty, if you -could put me up for the night. I’m not keen to be -dodgin’ bullets in the dark.”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” said Lady Heathcote. “How extraordinary!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -I can’t understand—Saltham Rocks—that’s -on my place. Something must be done, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley yawned. “Oh, tomorrow will do. -Couldn’t catch the beggars in the dark. Besides, -it’s late. Do me a favor, Betty. Don’t let those -people come in here again. I want a word with -Doris.”</p> - -<p>He had stretched himself out comfortably on the -Davenport, his eyes on the girl, who still stood uncertainly -beside him.</p> - -<p>Lady Betty shrugged, and taking up her basin and -lotion moved toward the door.</p> - -<p>“It’s most mysterious. Are you sure we’re quite -safe?”</p> - -<p>“Quite. But I think it might be better if I had -the room between yours and Doris’s.”</p> - -<p>“I was putting John Rizzio there.”</p> - -<p>“Well, change—there’s a dear. And say nothing -about it. I—I might need a new dressing on this -thing in the night.”</p> - -<p>She examined him curiously, but he was looking -lazily into the fire, having already taken her acquiescence -for granted.</p> - -<p>When she went out, Hammersley sat up and threw -his cigarette into the fire.</p> - -<p>“You have it still?” he whispered anxiously, taking -Doris by both hands.</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that. I seemed to have arrived at -the proper moment.”</p> - -<p>“I was about to burn them.”</p> - -<p>He drew a long breath of relief.</p> - -<p>“You know what they are?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I read them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I was afraid you would. You have spoken to no -one.”</p> - -<p>“No,” proudly. “Hardly. After what I went -through.” And, with an air of restraint, she told -him everything.</p> - -<p>He listened, a serious look in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“It was my fault. I should have left them in the -machine. I got away scot free.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know. I saw you.”</p> - -<p>“You poor child,” he said softly. “I was desperate. -I thought it necessary. How can I ever thank -you?”</p> - -<p>“You can’t.” The tones of her voice were strange.</p> - -<p>“I’d jolly well give my life for you, Doris. You -know that,” he said earnestly.</p> - -<p>“It’s something less than that that I want, and -something more—your word of honor.”</p> - -<p>“My word——?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she went on quietly. “To forswear your -German kinship and give me an oath of loyalty to -England. Difficult as it is, I’ll believe you.”</p> - -<p>“Sh—!” He glanced toward the door. All the -windows of the room were closed. “He told you that -I was a German spy?” he whispered anxiously.</p> - -<p>“You forget that I had proof of that already.”</p> - -<p>He sat up and looked into the fire. “I hoped you -wouldn’t read ’em. It has done no good.”</p> - -<p>“I have no regrets. I will not betray England, Cyril, -even for you.”</p> - -<p>He rose and paced the rug in front of her for a -moment. Then he spoke incredulously in a whisper.</p> - -<p>“You mean that you won’t give ’em to me?”</p> - -<p>“I mean that—precisely.”</p> - -<p>“But that is impossible,” he went on, with greater<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -signs of excitement than she had ever seen in him. -“Don’t you realize now that every moment the things -are in your possession you’re in danger—great danger? -Isn’t what you’ve gone through—isn’t this”—and -he indicated his arm—“the proof of it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said firmly. “But I would rather suffer -injury myself than see you share the fate of Captain -Byfield.”</p> - -<p>He started. “Oh, you heard that?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Jack Sandys is here.” She put her face in -her hands in the throes of her doubts of him and then -suddenly thrust out her hands and laced her fingers -around his arm.</p> - -<p>“Oh, give it up, Cyril, for my sake give it all up. -Can’t you see the terrible position you’ve placed me in? -If I give these papers to Jack Sandys they’ll come and -take you as they took Captain Byfield. I’ve kept them -for you, because I promised. But I cannot let this -information get to Germany. I would die first. What -shall I do?” she wailed. “What on earth <em>can</em> I do?”</p> - -<p>His reply made her gasp.</p> - -<p>“There’s a fire,” he said quietly. “Burn ’em.”</p> - -<p>Her fingers went to her corsage and her eyes gleamed -with a new hope. She took the crumpled rice-papers -out and looked at them. Then in a flash the thought -came to her.</p> - -<p>“You know the information contained in these papers?” -she asked in an accent of deprecation.</p> - -<p>“No,” he replied shortly. “I merely glanced at -them.”</p> - -<p>“You hadn’t the chance to study them?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>Still she hesitated. “But what—what is Rizzio?”</p> - -<p>He walked to the door of the room, opening it suddenly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -Then he shut it quietly and coming back to -the fire took the poker and made a hole between the -glowing coals.</p> - -<p>“Burn ’em!” he commanded.</p> - -<p>She obeyed him wonderingly and together they -watched the package of rice-papers flame into a live -coal and then turn to ashes. When the last vestige of -them had disappeared, they sat together on the davenport, -Cyril thoughtful, the girl bewildered.</p> - -<p>“What is Rizzio?” she repeated. “He told me that -he was an agent of the English Government.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can’t -tell you anything—even you. Don’t you understand?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t. It’s your word against his. I would -rather believe you than him. I want to, Cyril. God -knows I want to.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t I ask you to burn the papers? Didn’t he -try to prevent it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you see? If he were acting for England, -it wouldn’t matter what became of ’em if they didn’t -reach Germany.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I thought of that—but what you have told -me bewilders me. Why should you run away with secrets -of England—given you by a traitor who is about -to pay the penalty with—with death? What does it -mean? Why didn’t you take those papers at once to -the War Office? Why did Captain Byfield give them -to you? He—a traitor—to you—Cyril! It is all so -horrible. I am frightened. Your danger—Rizzio’s -men, here—tonight—all about us.”</p> - -<p>“If they were English secret service men,” Cyril -put in quietly, “wouldn’t they come here to this house -and arrest me in the name of the law?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes. There must be other reasons why they can’t. -What is the contest between you and Rizzio? Tell -me. Tell me everything! I will believe you. Haven’t -I kept your trust? If I could do that—for your sake—do -you not think that I could keep silent for England’s -sake?”</p> - -<p>Her arms were about his neck, and her lips very -close to his, but he turned his head away so that the -temptation might not be too strong for him.</p> - -<p>“I can’t,” he muttered, “I cannot speak—even to -you. I am sworn to secrecy.”</p> - -<p>She drooped upon his arms and then moved away -despairingly. It was the failure of the appeal of her -femininity that condemned him.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you won’t let me believe in you. You won’t let -me. It’s too great a test you’re asking of me. Everything -is against you—but the worst witness is your -silence!”</p> - -<p>He stood by the mantel, his head lowered.</p> - -<p>“It is hard for you—hard for us both,” he said -softly, “but I can’t tell you anythin’—anythin’.” He -raised his head and looked at her with pity. She had -sunk upon the divan, her head upon her arms in a despair -too deep for tears.</p> - -<p>He crossed and laid his hand gently upon her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“You must trust in me if you can. I will try to -be worthy of it. That’s all I can say.” He paused. -“And now you must go to bed. You’re a bit fagged. -Perhaps in the mornin’ you’ll pull up a bit and see -things differently.”</p> - -<p>She straightened slowly and their eyes met for a -moment. His never wavered, and she saw that they -were very kind, but she rose silently and without offering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -him her lips or even her hand, moved slowly toward -the door.</p> - -<p>He reached it in a stride before her and put his -hand upon the knob.</p> - -<p>“There’s one thing more I’ve got to ask.”</p> - -<p>Her look questioned.</p> - -<p>“You must sleep in my room tonight, next to Betty’s. -I shall sleep in yours.”</p> - -<p>Her weary eyes sought his with an effort.</p> - -<p>“You mean you think Rizzio—would still——?”</p> - -<p>She paused.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he thinks you would not give them to me.” -And then, with a laugh, “You wouldn’t, you know.”</p> - -<p>“And if I tell him I have burned them——”</p> - -<p>“He will not believe you.”</p> - -<p>“He would not believe me,” she repeated in a daze.</p> - -<p>“You must do what I ask,” Cyril went on quietly. “I -know what is best. I’ll arrange it with Betty.” He -glanced at his watch. “One o’clock. By Jove! It’s -time even for auction players.”</p> - -<p>She promised him at last after a protest on his -own account.</p> - -<p>“Nothin’ to worry about,” he laughed. “They may -not try anythin’, and when they find I’m there they’ll -bundle out in a hurry.”</p> - -<p>Thus reassured she went out to the drawing-room -where the card players were just rising. Rizzio was -nowhere to be seen. Cyril at once took their hostess -aside and told her that Doris was a little upset by -the shooting, asking if Betty would mind letting her -take the room next to her own, so that she could open -the door between.</p> - -<p>“Don’t say anything about it, Betty,” he urged. -“Just ask her in, won’t you, when you get upstairs.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And you?”</p> - -<p>“I could do a turn on steel spikes,” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“Your arm?”</p> - -<p>“Right as rain. It’s nothing at all.”</p> - -<p>Doris accepted the situation without a word. Indeed -she was numbed with the fatigue of strained -nerves. The swift rush of incident since Betty’s London -dinner, with its rapid alternations of hope and -fear, had left her bewildered and helpless. But it -was the interview with Cyril tonight that had plunged -her into the dark abyss of despair. She had tried so -hard to believe in him, but he would do nothing to take -away the weight that had been dragging her down further -and further from the light. A new kind of love -had come to her, born of the new Cyril who had won -her over by the sheer force of a personality, the existence -of which she had not dreamed. A short time -ago she had wanted to see him awake—a firebrand—and -she had had her wish, for she had kindled to his -touch like tinder. But tonight, in her utter weariness, -it seemed as though her spirit was charred, burnt -to a cinder, like the package of papers in the grate -in the gun-room, destroyed, as the secret message had -been, in the great game that Cyril was playing.</p> - -<p>She undressed slowly, listening for any sounds that -might come from the room next door, but the only sign -she had of him was the familiar smell of his pipe tobacco -which came through the cracks and key-hole. A -little later Betty Heathcote came in prepared for what -she called a “back hair talk,” but found her guest so -unresponsive that at last she went into her own room -and bed. Doris lay for a while watching the line of -light under Cyril’s door, wondering what he was doing -and what the night was to bring forth. One memory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -persisted in the chaos of the night’s events. Cyril -didn’t know the contents of the papers and yet he -had commanded her to burn them. The thought -quieted her, and at last she saw the light in his room -go out, then, after a time, in spite of her weariness, -she slept.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She awakened, trembling with terror, listening for -she knew not what. And then as her wits slowly came -to her, she was aware of the sounds which had awakened -her. They were suppressed, secret, and strange, -but none the less terrible, the shuffling of feet, hoarse -whispers, and the creaking of straining furniture. She -sat upright, slipped to the floor quickly, and, getting -into the dressing-gown at the foot of the bed, stood -for a moment in the middle of the room, her heart beating -wildly. Then with quick resolution she moved -swiftly to Betty Heathcote’s room and, after assuring -herself that her hostess still slept, closed the door -softly and passed the bolt.</p> - -<p>Again she hesitated. The sounds from Cyril’s room -continued, the hard breathing of men who seemed with -one accord to be trying to keep their struggles silent. -Aware of her danger, but considering it less than the -physical need for immediate action, with trembling fingers -she turned the key and quickly opened the door.</p> - -<p>At first, silence, utter and profound, but full of a -terror which a breath might reveal.</p> - -<p>“Cyril! What is it?” she managed to whisper.</p> - -<p>“Sh—” she heard. And dimly, in the pale moonlight, -she made out the dark blur of figures upon the -floor in the corner of the room.</p> - -<p>“Cyril!” she repeated.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It’s all right,” she heard in a breathless whisper. -“Go back to your room. It’s nothin’.”</p> - -<p>But having ventured thus far she did not hesitate, -and closing the door behind her came forward. Upon -the floor, half against the wall, was the figure of a -man. Cyril was sitting on his legs and holding him -with one hand by the neck cloth.</p> - -<p>“You’re safe?” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Go back to bed. Don’t you understand—if -anyone came——?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care.” Her curiosity had triumphed. She -leaned forward and saw that it was John Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“Rizzio!” she whispered. “My room!”</p> - -<p>“I ought to kill him, Doris,” said Cyril savagely, -“but I’ve only choked him a little. He’ll come around -in a minute.” And then more quietly: “Get me a -glass of water, but don’t make a fuss, and don’t make -a light. There are men outside.”</p> - -<p>She obeyed, and in a moment Rizzio revived and sat -up, Cyril standing over him, his fist clenched.</p> - -<p>“Oh, let him go, Cyril, please,” Doris pleaded.</p> - -<p>At the sound of the girl’s voice Rizzio started and -with Cyril’s help struggled to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he’s going the way he came—by the window,” -growled Hammersley. “Head first, if I have my way.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio succeeded in a smile, though he was still -struggling for breath.</p> - -<p>“I suppose—I—I must thank you for your generosity, -Hammersley,” he said with as fine a return of his -composure as his throat permitted. “I have been -guilty of—of an error in judgment——”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry you think it’s only that,” said Cyril dryly. -“Now go,” he whispered threateningly, pointing to the -window.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>“In a moment—with your permission,” he said, recovering -his suavity with his breath. “In extenuation -of this visit, terrible as it seems to Miss Mather, I—I -can only say that if I had succeeded I would have -saved her from remembering some day that she had -given England’s secrets into the hands of the enemy.”</p> - -<p>“You’re mistaken,” said Doris quietly. “I have -burned them.”</p> - -<p>“You—you burned them?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—tonight.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio peered at her in silence for a long moment -and then shrugged. “Oh,” he said, “in that case, I -have made two errors in judgment——”</p> - -<p>“You’ll make a third, if you’re not out of that window -in half a second,” said Cyril.</p> - -<p>But Rizzio laughed at him.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think it would be wise to make a disturbance——” -he said coolly. “I think Miss Mather will -admit my generosity to herself and to you when I say -that I’ve only to raise my voice and have half a dozen -men up here in a moment.”</p> - -<p>Doris clutched him fearfully by the arm, thinking -of Cyril.</p> - -<p>“You’d not do that——?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley laughed dryly.</p> - -<p>“There’s no danger,” he said.</p> - -<p>“No,” returned Rizzio with a touch of his old magnificence. -“There is no danger of that—the reasons -are obvious.”</p> - -<p>As he moved toward the window Hammersley -touched him lightly on the arm.</p> - -<p>“I warn you, Rizzio,” he said in a low concentrated -tone, “that you’re playing a dangerous hand. I should -punish you—but other agencies——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rizzio halted. “Yes, other agencies——” he replied -significantly. He bowed in the girl’s direction and sitting -on the window-sill he threw his feet outside. “I -bid you good night.” And carefully feeling for his -footing he slowly descended.</p> - -<p>Cyril Hammersley followed him to the window, and -Doris took a step in his direction, when her thinly -slippered foot touched something in the wooden floor—something -which slid upon the polished surface from -the shadow into the moonlight. Instinctively she -glanced down and then started—scarcely restraining a -gasp. There, unmistakable in the shape and color for -so many hours graven on her mind, was a yellow packet -of Riz-la-Croix cigarette papers. She glanced at Cyril, -who was closing the casement window, then stooped -and, picking up the packet, fled noiselessly into her -room and quickly locked the door.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br /> -<small>EVIDENCE</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Inside her own room she stood for a moment -tremulously in the dark, fingering the guilty -thing in her hands as she had fingered the other -one—the one she had destroyed. Or hadn’t she destroyed -it? For a moment the thought came to her -that Cyril had practiced some trick upon her when -they had knelt before the fire, substituting other papers -for the ones that were to be burned. But that -was impossible. The papers had not touched his fingers. -He it was who had made a hole for them in the -fire, but her fingers had thrust the original papers into -the glowing coals. She turned the packet over and -over in her fingers, glancing at the closed door that -separated her from Cyril. Another message! It -must be.</p> - -<p>She pulled the curtains at the window and then moving -quietly to the bed, lit the candle on the night-stand. -Another packet of Riz-la-Croix, new like the -other, with its tiny thin rubber band. She opened it -quickly and scanned its pages, finding what she sought -without difficulty. The writing was not in the same -hand. It was rounder and less minute, covering in all -seven pages, and it was written carelessly as if the -writer had been in a hurry. Cyril’s own handwriting -it seemed. The purport of its message was the -same.</p> - -<p>No. She remembered the dates. These were somewhat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -different. The names of the regiments were the -same, but the dates instead of days in April and May -gave days in the months of June and July. And the -numerals which at first had puzzled her were smaller. -For instance, among “Highland Regiments Foot” the -numerals of which she remembered particularly, instead -of 120,000 she saw the numerals 42,000. It was -the same under other headings in the remainder of the -items. Under “shrapnel” there were changes, and -under “artillery”——</p> - -<p>She closed the packet in icy fingers, for the figures -swam before her eyes. They were all true—all the -horrible things that she had thought of Cyril! This -was later and more accurate information—the exact -reason for which she did not pretend to understand—and -was intended to follow the previous message—perhaps -to be used as a code in connection with it. -Cyril was—— Oh, the dishonor of it! And she had -gone to sleep almost ready to believe in him again—because -he had let her burn the other papers. What -did it matter to him whether she burned the papers -when he had other messages to send and had committed -to memory the facts he had let her destroy? -He had lied to her. He was false as Judas and more -dangerous, for now she knew that he was desperate as -well as cunning, stooping to any means, no matter -how ignoble, to gain his ends. She had been a mere -bauble in his hands, a child upon whose credulity he -had played without scruple. He had used her, the -woman he had said he loved, for his own unworthy -ends as he used Betty Heathcote and her house. She -was filled with shame for him and for herself, who could -love something shameful.</p> - -<p>And John Rizzio! Rizzio, Cyril’s enemy, stood for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -England and right, and she had permitted herself to -see through Cyril’s eyes just as Cyril had wanted her -to see.</p> - -<p>It seemed as she compared them that Rizzio’s nobility -attained a firmer contour. He had come to her -room to save her from her own ignorance and wilfulness, -from committing a crime, the greatest of all -crimes against England. Rizzio knew what Cyril was -and on her account had refrained from giving Cyril -up to the officers of the law, although they were within -call—even when he felt himself yielding to the fury of -Cyril’s superior physical strength. Not even the spirit -of revenge for the punishment Cyril had given him, -not even the humiliation he had suffered before her -eyes had been enough to make him forget his intention -to save, if he could, for the woman who loved him, a -successful rival. And she, Doris, had stood by Cyril’s -side warm in Cyril’s cause, against the one man who -held Cyril’s fate as the bearer of treacherous messages, -in his hand.</p> - -<p>There was still danger in the air. The last words -of the two men to each other had been hidden threats -of “other agencies,” whatever they were, and she found -herself praying in a whisper that the agency of England, -even if it meant Cyril’s danger, might conquer. -O God! It would have been better, it seemed, if the -bullet at Saltham Rocks that had grazed Cyril’s arm -had killed him. That death would at least have been -free from the shame of that which awaited Captain -Byfield.</p> - -<p>She gazed with wide eyes at her guttering candle. -She was wishing for Cyril’s death! She shivered with -pity for herself and for him and huddled down in the -bed, a very small, very miserable object, seeking in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -vain some hope, some rest for her mind amid the torture -of her thoughts.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she started up and sat clutching the yellow -packet to her breast, her gaze fixed on the door into -Cyril’s room. Had she heard a knock? Or was it -only imagination? Yes. There it was again. She -leaned over hurriedly and blew out the candle and lay -very still, her teeth chattering with the cold, her body -trembling. He was knocking again, a little louder -this time, and she heard his voice through the keyhole -whispering her name. She made no response and -feigned sleep. He knocked again still louder and she -heard her name spoken quite distinctly. He would -awaken the house if this went on. When he knocked -again she got up and went over to the door.</p> - -<p>“Doris!” he was saying.</p> - -<p>She answered him.</p> - -<p>“Will you open the door—just a crack?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“I want to speak to you.”</p> - -<p>“You cannot.”</p> - -<p>“Please.”</p> - -<p>“I’m listening. What do you want to say?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve lost something—something that must have -fallen from my pocket.”</p> - -<p>She was silent.</p> - -<p>And then in quick anxious tones:</p> - -<p>“You didn’t see—anythin’—on the floor by the -door?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she lied, trembling. “I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>She heard him mutter.</p> - -<p>“You’re sure?” came his voice again.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>And then in dubious tones:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, very well then. Sorry to have troubled you. -Good night.”</p> - -<p>She didn’t reply and stole back through the darkness -to her bed, into which she crept, like some thin -wraith of vengeance, biding her time.</p> - -<p>Into bed, but not to sleep. She watched the moonlight -grow pale into the west and saw the first gray -streaks of dawn paint the wooded slopes of Ben Darrah -across the valley of the Dorth. In pity for herself -and Cyril she watched the new day born, a new -day, bleak and cheerless, which seemed by its very -aspect to pronounce a sentence upon them; the new -day which was to mark the passing of all the things -growing womanhood holds most dear, her first faith, -her first tenderness, her first passion.</p> - -<p>Doris kept to her room until Betty came in, awakening -her from a heavy sleep into which she had fallen -just before sunrise. Lady Heathcote rang for Wilson -and then retired to the ministrations of her own maid, -leaving Doris to dress for the morning at her leisure. -And when the girl got downstairs to breakfast she -found that the other guests had preceded her. But -Betty Heathcote was still in the breakfast room picking -with dainty fingers at the various dishes upon the -sideboard and making sparkling comment as was her -custom on men and things. She found the disappearance -of John Rizzio, bag, baggage and man, from Kilmorack -House without even a line to his hostess both -unusual and surprising, since her guest was a man who -made much of the amenities and forms of proper behavior. -Doris commented in a desultory way, trying -to put on an air of cheerfulness, aware of Cyril Hammersley -somewhere in the background awaiting the -chance to speak to her alone. She did not hurry, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -when Betty arose sauntered into the library where the -other guests were waiting for the horses to come -around. Twice Cyril tried to speak to her, but she -avoided him skillfully, contriving to be a part of a -group where personal topics were not to be discussed. -That kind of maneuvering she knew was a game at -which any woman is more than a match for any man. -But she saw by the cloud that was growing in Cyril’s -eyes that he was not in the mood to be put off with -excuses, and realized that the sooner the pain of their -interview was over, the better it would be for both of -them. She was dressed in the long coat and breeches -which she wore in the hunting field, and in her waistcoat -pocket was the yellow packet.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to see you for half an hour alone,” he -said at last, taking the bull by the horns.</p> - -<p>“I shall miss my ride.”</p> - -<p>“They’re taking the long road to Ben-a-Chielt. I’ll -take you there in the motor and send your mount on -by a groom.”</p> - -<p>She acquiesced with a cool shrug which put him at -once upon his guard, but Doris had reached a pass -when all she wanted was to bring their relations to an -end as speedily and with as little pain as possible. -So that when the others had gone she sank into a chair -before the fire, coldly asking him what he wanted. He -stood with his back to the hearth, his hands clasped -behind him, in a long moment of silence as though trying -to find the words to begin.</p> - -<p>“Well?” she asked insolently.</p> - -<p>“What has happened since last night to change you -so, Doris?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve had a chance to think.”</p> - -<p>“Of what?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That it was time you and I had an understanding.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see——”</p> - -<p>“Wait!” she commanded, with a wave of the hand. -“There isn’t anything that you can say that will make -me change my mind. Therefore the sooner this talk -is over the better for both of us. I’ve told you and -you know already that my whole soul is wrapped in -the cause of England in this war. I can have nothing -but pity and contempt for any Englishman——”</p> - -<p>She paused, for at this moment, the parlor maid -appeared and, gathering up some brasses on Lady -Heathcote’s desk, went out of the room.</p> - -<p>“I beg that you will be more careful, Doris,” Cyril -whispered.</p> - -<p>She was silent a moment, and then after a glance at -the dining-room door, went on with more restraint.</p> - -<p>“Pity and contempt are hardly the kind of ingredients -that love can live on. They’ve poisoned mine. -It’s dead. I don’t want to see you again,” she finished -coldly—“ever. I hope you understand.”</p> - -<p>He bowed his head and for a moment made no reply.</p> - -<p>“I asked——” he said slowly, “I hoped—that you -would be willin’ to trust me—that you’d wait until I -was able to speak to you—to explain the—the things -you do not understand.”</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately,” she put in distinctly, “there is -nothing that I do not understand. I know—God help -you!—what you are. I have done what I can to save -you from the fate you’re courting—and I shall still do -so, for the sake of—of what once was—was between -us. But I do not want to see you again. I have put -you out of my life—completely—as though you never -had been in it. And now,” she rose, “will you let -me go?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> - -<p>“One moment, please,” he said calmly. “You found -those papers last night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said coolly. “And if I did?”</p> - -<p>He seemed to breathe more freely.</p> - -<p>“I have nothing to say,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she said quickly, “I’m glad of that. You -don’t deny——?”</p> - -<p>“I deny nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I see that -it would be useless.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you give me credit for that much intelligence,” -she said scathingly. “You haven’t done so -before.”</p> - -<p>“It was not your intelligence,” he said gently, “so -much as your heart that I had relied upon.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you thought I was a fool that you could use—indefinitely——”</p> - -<p>“No. I thought you were a woman that I could -count on indefinitely.”</p> - -<p>Something in the tone of his own voice made her -turn and look at him.</p> - -<p>“A woman—yes, but not an enemy of England.”</p> - -<p>He was silent again, and when he spoke it was not -to argue. His voice was subdued—shamed even it -seemed.</p> - -<p>“And now—I suppose you will give the—the papers -to Sandys,” he said.</p> - -<p>She examined him closely and pity for him seemed -even stronger than shame.</p> - -<p>“It is a part of our misunderstanding,” she said -coolly, “that you should think so little of me. I have -told you that I shall protect you. My hands shall be -clean, if my heart isn’t.”</p> - -<p>“What will you do with the papers?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“This,” and she turned toward him—“burn them.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -She put her hand into her pocket, drew out the papers -and went toward the hearth. Her hand was even extended -toward the fire when, with a quick movement, -he snatched the yellow packet from her fingers.</p> - -<p>She fell away from him in dismay, as if she had been -touched by something poisonous, touching her wrist -and the fingers into which her rings had been driven. -Then she hid her face in her hands and closed her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she gasped. “You’d pay my generosity—with -<em>this</em>!”</p> - -<p>He had examined the papers coolly and had put -them into his pocket.</p> - -<p>“I? I don’t count in a game like this—nor do you. -I’m sorry. They were mine. You took them. I had -to have them.”</p> - -<p>“Then <em>this</em>——” she stammered, “<em>this</em> was what you -kept me here for?”</p> - -<p>“I had to have them,” he repeated dully. That was -all. Her wrist and fingers burned where he had hurt -them. A brute—a coward—as well as a traitor. She -straightened proudly and with a look at his bowed -head, she went by him and out of the room.</p> - -<p>Hammersley stood as she had left him for a moment -and only raised his head when the parlor maid came in -again and replaced the brasses on Lady Heathcote’s -desk. In his eyes there came a keen look and he took -a step forward.</p> - -<p>“Do you always clean Lady Heathcote’s brasses on -Friday?” he asked the maid.</p> - -<p>She turned around with a startled air.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, sir,” she replied demurely. “Friday, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Hammersley. “Thanks.”</p> - -<p>She stood a moment as if awaiting further questions -and then went out.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> - -<p>Hammersley followed her with his gaze and then -with a last look around the room went into the hall, put -on his fur coat and cap and quickly made his way toward -the garage.</p> - -<p>Upstairs Doris paced her room in an agony of rage -and humiliation. She had meant to give him his dismissal -kindly, but it was his abjectness that had made -her scornful—abjectness worn as she now knew with -an object that was indifferent to scorn. It was only -with the purpose of getting the papers from her that -he had kept her there, and the contempt that she had -shown for him seemed but a piteous thing beside the -enormity of his brutality. He had not cared what -she thought of him. He had not cared. He had said -so himself. Their love was a trifle beside the greater -matter that concerned him.</p> - -<p>He had led her on under the guise of a shame he did -not feel, from one revelation to another, playing upon -her emotions, upon things, which should have been -sacred even to him in such an hour until with infinite -cunning he had made her bring out the papers—and -then——</p> - -<p>Rage possessed her. She felt that she had been -tricked—with weapons that he should have scorned to -use. She hated him at that moment, not as she hated -the secrecy and dishonor of his cause, but as a man -who could take advantage of a woman, as a hypocrite, -a coward, a bully.</p> - -<p>She knew the fury of Dido, but she felt the pain of -Ariadne too. She heard the sound of his roadster and -ran to the window, peering dark-eyed through the muslin -curtains, and saw him go by under her windows, -low down in his seat, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, -driving fast, Stryker beside him. He passed without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -even a glance upward or back—out of her life. It -seemed to her that if he had turned his head just then -and given one look at the house even, she could have -forgiven him much, but she watched him until he turned -the angle of the road and was gone.</p> - -<p>Their interview had seemed so brief—in all it seemed -scarcely more than a moment—to have made such a -horrible change in her way of looking at things. If -he had protested innocence, fought, if even so weakly, -against her evidence, fought with a man’s strength -against odds the danger of losing the woman he wanted, -she could have seen him go with a calmness born of -woman’s inherent right to dismiss. But this——! -Death surely was no worse than for a woman to be -spurned by such a man.</p> - -<p>After a while tears came, and they helped her, tears -of anger, if you will, but tears, soft and humid, in -which to a woman there is always a kind of bitter -sweetness, too. She threw herself on her bed in her -riding togs, her mannish coat and mannish boots, eloquent -of their own pretensions. In spite of them and -the things they typified she was merely a very tired -little girl, weeping her heart out as other little girls -had done before and will again, because her lover had -gone away from her.</p> - -<p>Toward luncheon time when the others were expected -to return she got up, bathed her eyes and, summoning -Wilson, changed into a dress for the afternoon. Pride -came to her rescue now, and with the help of her maid -and the mysterious process with which maids are familiar -she managed to make herself presentable enough -to avoid notice from so keen an observer as her hostess. -Doris found herself smiling, and doing her share of -conversation in a mechanical way which left a question<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -in her mind as to the depth of her own emotions. -But the weight about her heart, the dull echo of reiterated -thoughts pervaded all and she knew that it -was merely that her spirit was dulled, her heart numb, -like a nerve from the shock of a blow. She stole away -when she could with a book to the gun-room, where -she could sit alone and try to put her thoughts in -order.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br /> -<small>THE VIKING’S TOWER</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">There in the middle of the afternoon the butler -brought her a note. For a moment before -she read the superscription, a wild rush of -something which might have been joy yet could not be, -sent a pale flush of color into her cheek. But she -glanced at the envelope carelessly, and when the man -had gone, quickly opened it.</p> - -<p>It was from John Rizzio, signed with the familiar -initials and begun without either name or qualification:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>You will think it strange, perhaps, that I should -write to you after the events of last night, because -the modesty of a woman is the last thing that forgives. -My action is beyond apology and I offer -none for fear that it may be construed into a hope—a -selfish hope of an unimaginable forgiveness. -Hope has passed—that with the others, but something -else remains, something less selfish than hope -and more vital than self-interest and that is a whole-hearted -wish that your honor may be kept free -from the taint of the dark and furtive things with -which it has come into contact.</p> - -<p>I am not a man, as you know, to boast of disinterestedness. -I have lived a life in which my own -affairs were always paramount, my own aims always -most important. I am telling you this to warn you -that my generosity to Hammersley is not actuated -by any love of a man who has spoiled my dearest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -ambition, but by the continued esteem with which I -still regard yourself. I do not love him; and my -own wish, my duty, my own honor, my loyalty to -England all acclaim that he should be delivered at -once to those in authority. And yet I have refrained—for -you, Doris. But I have learned that H—— -is in communication with G—— and that Crenshaw -of Scotland Yard is on the alert. I may not be able -to save him.</p> - -<p>This is an appeal to the one person who has the -most influence with him and I ask that you use whatever -power over him you possess to bring him to -a sense of the impossibility of his mad plans. If -you still have doubt as to the character of the work -he has undertaken, I ask that you go to Ben-a-Chielt -tonight and listen secretly to convincing proof of -what he is. For tonight at one o’clock on the cliffs -near the old Viking’s Tower, he will meet a personal -messenger from G——.</p> - -<p>I appeal to you for England—but more than for -England, for—yourself.</p> - -<p class="padr7">Yours,</p> - -<p class="right">J. R.</p> -</div> - -<p>Doris read the note through again and again, her -thoughts blurring unpleasantly, like a photograph out -of focus. It seemed impossible that she could do what -he asked of her. Every instinct, wounded and sore -from her last encounter, revolted at the thought of -meeting Cyril again under the conditions presented. -It was impossible that she should go. Cyril would -only laugh at her or, what would be worse, show her -the callousness and brutality that he had done this -morning. Rizzio asked her to do what she could. -Why should she save him? What had he done to -merit such a sacrifice of pride on her part. The past?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -That was dead and Cyril buried with it. England? -She put her head forward into her hands and pressed -her fingers to her temples. England!</p> - -<p>As the afternoon faded into night the conviction -grew in Doris’s mind that the situation made personal -considerations unimportant. After dinner she excused -herself and, dressing warmly, toward twelve o’clock -went downstairs past the library door and out to the -stables. She found a sleepy groom and, giving him a -liberal fee as the price of his silence, had a side-saddle -put on a good horse and made her way in the direction -of Ben-a-Chielt. She knew the road well, for she had -traveled it many times with Cyril and Betty during -the previous summer when all the world was gay and -she and Cyril were lovers. She was a little nervous -at being alone on the moor in the darkness, but not -frightened. She gave herself greater hardihood by -trying to remember that Cyril and Rizzio were gentlemen, -one of whom she had thought she could have -trusted with her life, the other a friend who wanted to -be trusted with it—and now protested he held her -honor dearer than his own. Not her enemies surely; -and the thought of physical harm from either of them, -the only thing that could have deterred her from this -midnight venture, did not occur to her. But as she -came to Saltham Rocks, the scene of Cyril’s last night’s -encounter, she pressed forward more rapidly with a -keen eye upon the gray blur of the road. She reached -the cross-roads, her breath coming a little more rapidly, -pulled her horse down to a walk and turned in -upon Cyril’s property, going forward more slowly. -Until the present moment she had formulated no plan -of action, nor had counted upon the possibilities of -discovery, so she rode cautiously, making a long detour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -across the moor to avoid the lights of one of the -keepers’ houses which stood upon the road. She found -that she had to choose her way among the rocks and -whins, but her horse was sure-footed, and at a walk -there was little danger of a cropper. She kept the -road in sight and by the fitful light of the stars, between -the rack of mist and clouds that were coming -in from the sea, she made her way in the general direction -of the Lodge. On her right she had glimpses -of the sea beyond the cliffs and heard the pounding of -the surf upon the rocks and shingle. The Viking’s -Tower was up among the rocks near Beaufort Head, -half a mile beyond the house. She had been there with -Cyril many times, and from the ruined wall had sat -with him and looked out over the North Sea, while he -had told her in his sportive vernacular the story of -the tower and of the “Johnnies” who had built it. It -was difficult to identify that Cyril now with the man -of mystery lurking out here somewhere in the dark, -his mind set on the odious business of betraying his -country.</p> - -<p>The Lodge was set inland from the sea in a valley -between two ridges which narrowed down to a fissure -in the rocks that fell away to Beaufort Cove, a small -harbor almost land-locked where Cyril kept his motor-boats -and sloop. As the girl approached the Lodge, -she turned far to the left and made a wide circle -among the hills, so that there could be no chance of -inquisitive eyes discovering the bold silhouette of her -horse against the sky. Slowly she climbed the lower -ridges of Ben-a-Chielt until she reached a level spot, -high above the house, garage, stables and hangar, -where she stopped for a moment to rest her winded -horse.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> - -<p>Below her a wild panorama of land and wind-blown -sky, the ragged profile of black rocks etched deep into -the sullen gray of the sea. Seen from this height the -contours were unfamiliar to her and the purpose of -her grim visit gave the grim vista a dramatic significance -that was almost theatrical. Long lines emerged -from the dark blur of sea and sky and roared in upon -the rocks that guarded the harbor upon which they -were shivered into foam. Inside the rim of rocks the -placid cove calmly reflected the sky. She saw the -motor-boats near the landing, made out the specter -lines of Cyril’s sloop, the <i>Windbird</i>, and in the shadow -of the cliffs saw another vessel, the lines of which were -unfamiliar. This craft was long and slender with a -wireless mast and two large smoke-stacks. No lights -showed aboard of her, but there were signs of activity, -for while the girl looked a small boat was lowered and -was pulled for the landing; and suddenly the real -meaning of this dark vessel was borne to her. There -was no mistaking the grim profile of the thing that -projected from the forward superstructure and the -curving decks which met the water in such slender -lines. It was a war-vessel, a destroyer, and the man -who was putting out for the shore was the German -messenger who was to meet Cyril Hammersley at Ben-a-Chielt. -She trembled and clung to the pommel of her -saddle. The brief joyous moments that had come to -her at intervals during the evening as she thought of -the inflections of Cyril’s voice, of the weary look she -had seen in his eyes, and hoped that even tonight he -might be able to justify himself in her own thoughts at -least were engulfed in the damning conviction of what -she saw before her. John Rizzio had told her the truth. -How he had learned what was to happen, she did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -know or care, but the accuracy of his information was -no longer a matter to doubt.</p> - -<p>She looked around her in the darkness toward the -way by which she had come, really frightened for the -first time that evening as at the palpable presence of -sin. For a moment she hesitated in her intention to -go forward. She had seen enough to convince her. -There was no need of more. But the real object of her -mission nerved her to her task. She must go on at -once if she wished to reach the Tower in time to conceal -herself. So she pressed her horse along the hill, -and when she had crossed the ridge rode down in a -path parallel to the edge of the cliffs, which brought -her after a while into a line with Beaufort Head, where -she could see the dim mass of the ruin rising above the -chaos of rock that surrounded it.</p> - -<p>When she reached a spot not too far distant, she -dismounted in a clump of bushes and fastening the -bridle of her horse to the gnarled limb of a stunted -tree, crept forward on foot. The excitement of the -venture and its possible consequences now gave her -renewed strength and caution. Moving to the left, -toward the northern side of the Tower, she clambered -over the rocks toward the sea. There should be plenty -of time to reach a place of concealment before the -occupant of the boat had time to climb the steep and -tortuous path from the landing, and peering from side -to side, pausing from time to time to listen, she reached -the shadow of Table Rock, a huge slab of granite -which had been tossed by some convulsion of Nature -upon the very summit of the Head. The physical contours -of the place made her approach an easy one, for -the cliffs were strewn with bowlders and it was easy to -slip from one to another without detection.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<p>Assured that the spot that she had reached was as -near the Tower as she dared approach for the present, -she wedged herself into a crevice between two rocks, -into which she might pass and go out by the other side, -and sank down upon her knees and waited. The moments -passed slowly. Where was John Rizzio? Would -Cyril never come? She had a moment of horror in the -thought that the German messenger might come and -discover her before Cyril arrived. What would he do -to her? Kill her, of course. And in a panic of sinking -nerves she thought of getting to her feet and fleeing -into the friendly darkness from which she had come. -She had even risen and her head was just below the -level of the top of her refuge when she heard footsteps -close by and got the odor of a cigarette. So she sank -back, her hand at her heart to quiet its throbbings.</p> - -<p>The footsteps passed her, returned and then went -toward the Tower and she bared her head and peered -cautiously out. A tall figure in a long coat and deer-stalker -cap was standing watching the path to the -landing. She could not see his features, but she knew -that it was Cyril. For one moment she thought of -running to him and throwing herself at his feet and -pleading with him while there was still time to go away -into the darkness—with her—anywhere before this -stranger should reach him. But her courage failed -her and she sank back into her corner. And when -she straightened again her moment had passed, for she -heard other footsteps to her right of a man as he clambered -up the rocks. He passed quite near her, a burly -man in a naval cap and coat, out of breath from his -exertions.</p> - -<p>Cyril came forward to meet him, and she heard the -short words of their greeting.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Herr Hammersley?”</p> - -<p>“Ja.”</p> - -<p>She peered out and saw the burly man straighten, -his heels together, and touch his fingers to the rim of -his cap. Cyril bowed and asked a question and the -other replied in a sentence that contained the word -“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Hochheit</i>,” which was the only word she understood. -She crept a little closer so that she could hear more -distinctly, hoping that her slight knowledge of German -might aid her. She watched Cyril to see if he passed -anything to the German officer. Instead of this the -German took a letter from an inside pocket and handed -it to Cyril, and she heard the words “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Hochheit</i>” again -and “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Excellenz</i>”—a message it seemed from some -prince, or from some general or high official of the -German Government. Cyril appeared to offer apologies -and broke the seal of the envelope, bringing from -the pocket of his overcoat an electric torch, by the aid -of which he read the letter. Doris could see his face -quite plainly in the reflected light from the page, and -marked the deep lines at his brows and the stern look -at his mouth and chin. He went over the document -twice very carefully, and then as he turned to his companion -she heard his voice saying quite distinctly in -German:</p> - -<p>“You know the purport of this paper?”</p> - -<p>“No, Herr Hammersley,” said the officer. “My orders -are merely to deliver this letter which was to receive -your acceptance.”</p> - -<p>Cyril paused for a long moment, tapping the document -lightly with his finger and then taking a pencil -from his pocket bent over and upon the nearest rock -wrote something. Then he slipped the letter into its -envelope and handed it to the other, who put it into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -his pocket, saluted again and with a hurried farewell -turned down the path and was gone.</p> - -<p>That was all. The interview had not lasted more -than five minutes, but Doris knew by the look she had -seen on Cyril’s face that danger threatened. The letter -had contained a command, a command from a -German officer of high rank to Cyril Hammersley—a -spy receiving his orders from the government he served. -If he had gone back to the Lodge at this moment she -would have let him go past her without a word, for -the bitterness came back into her heart and engulfed -all purpose. She sat in her place of concealment, -peering out at him, fascinated. He moved nearer and -then stood, his feet braced on the rocks, gazing down -the path by which his midnight visitor had disappeared. -How long he stood there motionless she could not -know, but as the moments passed and he did not move, -she rose from her cranny, her trembling nerves seeking -an outlet in motion or speech. Why didn’t he -move?</p> - -<p>At last her overtaxed nerves could no longer endure -and she came out of the shadow and spoke his name. -Still he made no motion, and she realized that her lips -had made no sound. But her foot touched a small -stone, which fell among the rocks, and she saw him -wheel around and face her quickly, something glittering -in his hand, while his voice rang sharply.</p> - -<p>“Stand where you are!”</p> - -<p>He took a few threatening steps toward her, his -look studying her small bulk.</p> - -<p>“It’s I, Cyril,” she said faintly, “Doris.”</p> - -<p>“You!” He glanced to right and left, putting the -thing in his pocket and faced her, incredulous. “What -are you doing here, Doris?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I came to—to see you again——”</p> - -<p>His eyes were still searching the darkness around -them.</p> - -<p>“Who told you to come here?”</p> - -<p>“No one,” she lied. “I followed you.”</p> - -<p>“Who saw you come? You heard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes——” slowly. “O Cyril—I can’t let you go -from me like this——”</p> - -<p>She put her face to her hands and felt his arms -enfold her. She trembled, but in this weakness a new -kind of strength came to her. “I want you to come -with me away—away from all this—for me—for England. -It’s my last appeal—you must not refuse it. I—I -want you so, Cyril, as it used to be.”</p> - -<p>She felt his lips gently touch her brow and heard his -whisper,</p> - -<p>“God bless you!”</p> - -<p>She clung to him desperately, to his caress, the one -sure symbol of his purity——</p> - -<p>“I love you, Cyril,” she murmured, “I can’t help -it. I’ve tried not to. But you couldn’t kiss me like -this, reverently, if you did not love me well enough to -forget everything else. Say you do, dear.”</p> - -<p>“I love you,” he whispered again. “But you must -not stay here. You must——”</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t it mean something to you that I came,” -she went on breathlessly, “that I could forget—what -happened—that the love that was in my heart for you -was greater than my hatred of what you are? I came -so that you could know it by the difficulty, the danger -that I ran. I don’t care what others may think of -me. The only thing that matters is to have you again. -You don’t know what it cost me to come. I am not the -kind to be held so lightly, Cyril. I have forgotten my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -pride, even my sense of what is fitting for a girl to do, -in the hope that you will listen to me.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he murmured, “but not now, Doris. You -must go back.”</p> - -<p>“Not yet——” she protested.</p> - -<p>“I—I have much to do——” he said.</p> - -<p>“That messenger—O Cyril—you mustn’t. Come -back with me—tonight—now——”</p> - -<p>“I can’t,” he muttered. “It—it is important for -me to stay here——”</p> - -<p>She loosened his arms and stood away from him, -peering down into the cove where clouds of black -smoke were belching from the funnels of the black vessel. -The water of the cove was churning in its wake -and its prow was turning toward the harbor mouth.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she saw Cyril start and peer around him -in the darkness.</p> - -<p>“Who sent you here?” she heard his voice in a -strangled whisper at her ear.</p> - -<p>“No one,” she denied again, “I followed you.”</p> - -<p>“That isn’t possible, Doris,” he said quickly. “I -have reasons for knowing. You were here before I -came. Rizzio told you—— He knew what was to -happen—he was the only one who could have known.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” Her curiosity sent all subterfuge flying. -She could see his pale face in the moonlight.</p> - -<p>“Because it was Rizzio who sent this messenger to -meet me.”</p> - -<p>“Rizzio!” The mystery was deepening. “I can’t -understand.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated a long moment before replying, as -though weighing something in his mind.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you this much,” he said at last. “You’ve -a right to know. Rizzio told you that he was an agent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -of the English Government. It’s my word against his. -You can believe me or not if you like. Rizzio is a spy -of Germany!”</p> - -<p>“Impossible! John Rizzio——” she whispered -aghast.</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“The pot callin’ the kettle black—what? It’s the -truth.”</p> - -<p>“But Rizzio! What object would he have in betraying -England? A man of his position!”</p> - -<p>“That’s the kind of men England’s enemies want,” -put in Cyril dryly.</p> - -<p>“But he has no need of money. Not money. Impossible!”</p> - -<p>“No, not money. There are other things that John -Rizzio values more than money.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>He caught her by the arm impressively to make his -meaning clear. “You don’t know the passion of collectors. -They would sell their souls for the things -they want. The things that seem impossible are the -things they want the most.”</p> - -<p>“But I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“After the war Rizzio is to be permitted to ‘buy’ -Rubens’s ‘Descent from the Cross’ from the German -Government.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she gasped in horror. A new idea of the -terrible possibilities of duplicity was borne to her. But -she couldn’t believe.</p> - -<p>“How do you know this?” she asked.</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“It’s one of the things I stopped in London to find -out.”</p> - -<p>“Then you——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I am a German spy.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe you,” she cried proudly. There -was a note of joy in her voice, a momentary note which -seemed to trail off into one of terror. “Cyril!” she -whispered. “Rizzio! He wrote me to come here.”</p> - -<p>“I knew it.”</p> - -<p>“But he said he——” she hesitated. “Why did he -want me to come? There must have been some other -reasons besides wanting me to see—he’s here, Cyril—somewhere——”</p> - -<p>Hammersley started and turned, his hand in his -pocket, and Doris followed his look. Three men had -risen from among the rocks toward the Tower.</p> - -<p>“Don’t move, Hammersley,” said Rizzio’s voice. -“You’re in danger, Doris.”</p> - -<p>But the girl was clinging to Cyril’s arm. “No, no,” -she was crying. Several shots rang out as Cyril threw -her aside, dashing forward. One of the men seemed -to stumble among the rocks and fall heavily. The -other came in toward Cyril, his arm raised, but another -shot from behind the rocks made him pause, twist -half around, his hand to his shoulder as Cyril caught -him a blow which sent him reeling to the edge of the -cliff, over which he hung for a moment, peering downwards -in horror, and then disappeared from view.</p> - -<p>“Well done, Stryker,” she heard Cyril cry. “The -other—this way. Don’t let him get off.”</p> - -<p>And Stryker disappeared after Rizzio.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br /> -<small>THE YELLOW DOVE</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">In a daze Doris saw Cyril bend over the prostrate -figure and then come toward her.</p> - -<p>“Dead?” she whispered in horror.</p> - -<p>But he didn’t seem to hear her. He caught her by -the arm and forcibly led her inland.</p> - -<p>“Dead!” she whispered again. “It might have been -you.”</p> - -<p>“Or you,” she heard him say sharply.</p> - -<p>“Me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. But it’s my fault. I should have guessed.”</p> - -<p>“John Rizzio would kill <em>me</em>. Oh, it’s unbelievable!”</p> - -<p>“You know too much.” He gave a short laugh. -“Far too much for your own good—or mine.” He -caught her suddenly by both arms and made her look -straight into his eyes. “Doris, you’ve seen nothing, -you’ve heard nothing tonight. Do you understand?”</p> - -<p>His grasp on her arms hurt her but she bore it without -a murmur.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said.</p> - -<p>“You swear it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” faintly, “I do.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to go away from Ben-a-Chielt tonight. I -can’t tell you why. You’ve got to go straight to Kilmorack -House now. You rode over. Take the short -cut by Horsham Hill. It’s not so well known. I -would go with you but I haven’t a moment to spare. -Don’t trust anyone—not even the maids at the house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -Go back to London tomorrow with Jack Sandys and -don’t let him leave you until you’re safe at Ashwater -Park. Where’s your horse?”</p> - -<p>She told him and followed blindly.</p> - -<p>“Where are you going, Cyril?” she pleaded.</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t matter.”</p> - -<p>He found the horse and untied the bridle.</p> - -<p>“Tell me, Cyril. I’ve earned the right to know.”</p> - -<p>“Something has happened,” he said quietly, “which -has put all my plans in danger——”</p> - -<p>“And you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. The thing I’ve been trying to do may fail. -It hangs or falls by this issue.”</p> - -<p>“But what—what?”</p> - -<p>“You can’t know that,” he said quickly. “Don’t -ask me anything more. I can’t answer. But trust in -me if you can. Trust in me, Doris, and if you love -me—<em>silence</em>!”</p> - -<p>He gave her a lift into the saddle and kissed her -hand. Then he looked around him and gave a parting -injunction.</p> - -<p>“Now cut sharp off to the right in the darkness until -you strike the old sheep trail. You can see it quite -plainly in the heather. Follow it to the head of the -ridge, then take the road to Horsham Hill. Good-by -and God bless you.”</p> - -<p>A sob rose in her throat and she could only wave a -hand in reply. And so she left him standing there -alone gazing after her with bared head in the darkness. -The strain on her nerves had told on her and she -sat her side-saddle listlessly holding on by the pommel, -and peering into the darkness before her, with eyes -that saw nothing but pictures of death. She could -not forget the wounded man grasping at space as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -tottered on the rim of the rocks. Cyril had killed a -man. War! She had thought war a more glorious -thing. This seemed very like murder. She blessed -God for Stryker who had come so opportunely. Rizzio -had tried to kill Cyril. In horror she had seen him -raise his pistol and aim, but at her cry he had missed -his shot and with the disabling of his confederates he -had fled.</p> - -<p>Rizzio was a German spy. Then since they were -enemies of course Cyril was loyal—playing a part to -deceive the enemy—learning its secrets that England -might profit by them. The message! What was the -message that the German naval officer had brought -which had so disturbed Cyril? What was this mysterious -duty of Cyril’s which meant so much to his -cause, the success or failure of which hung by a thread? -She tried to think what Cyril could do in England and -after a time the thing began to come to her. Cyril -was acting for England. He had succeeded, in the -guise of a German secret agent, in finding the traitor -in the War Office, and it was Cyril who had caused -the arrest of Captain Byfield. Rizzio, too, was a German -spy who for some reason or other had been sent—O -God—that was it. The Germans suspected Cyril -and had used John Rizzio to put him to the test—had -set a thief to catch a thief. Cyril had found that -the message was a dangerous one—and had refused to -give it up to Rizzio. That seemed to explain everything—Cyril’s -willingness to have her burn the papers, -Rizzio’s anxiety to save them, that he might send -them to his employers. The second packet of papers? -A false message, prepared for a purpose which Cyril -was to fulfill. The German naval officer! His message—what -was it? Imagination refused to aid her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -She could not understand. He brought a command—a -test of Cyril’s loyalty to Germany perhaps? Was -that it? And if so, what? A test which meant victory -or defeat—that was what Cyril’s last words had meant. -Victory or defeat—life or death. It was a desperate -game that he was playing. And what was he going to -do tonight that made it necessary for him to leave her -to ride to Kilmorack House alone?</p> - -<p>Bewildered and weary with excitement and much -thinking, she gave it up, and as in a daze set her mind -to the task of finding the way to Horsham Hill. She -rode on inland searching for the old sheep trail as -Cyril had described it to her, but as the minutes went -by and she did not find it she began to think that she -must have passed it in the darkness. She had ridden -at a walk for hours it seemed, keeping as she thought -in a direction which would surely lead her to a road -toward the Hill, but she realized now that she was lost -on the moor and that it might be morning before she -would find her way to Betty Heathcote’s. She stopped -her horse and peered in every direction. Nothing but -the undulations of the moor, hill and dale, a dead tree -outlined against the sky, masses of rock uncouth in -form, bushes which whispered in the wind, the babble -of a tarn somewhere behind her, though she had not -remembered passing it. There were no lights in any -direction, none even from the heavens, for the stars -had gone out. After a long while she wondered -vaguely what time it was. She had no watch, but it -seemed that a paleness like that which precedes the -dawn had spread along the sky—though it hardly -seemed possible it could be so late as that. Three—four -o’clock she thought it might be—perhaps later. -The one thing that now seemed to persist in her mind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -was the hope that Wilson had obeyed orders and kept -Lady Heathcote in ignorance of her absence.</p> - -<p>She was startled by her horse which, without moving, -had stretched his neck and whinnied loudly. He, -too, had realized the aimlessness of their wanderings -and wanted the warm stalls at the Kilmorack stables. -Doris tried to think what was best to do. All sense -of direction was gone and she was beyond even the -sound of the sea. At last she decided to try a slight -eminence and see if she could make out the bulk of -Ben-a-Chielt, but a mist had fallen, and when she -reached the height she was no wiser than before. Fortunately, -it was not cold, and if she did not fall from -the saddle in utter weariness, daylight would show her -a way. She got down from her horse and, fastening -him to a bush, walked to and fro to keep awake, waiting -for the day, for at sunrise she could make her way -toward the east until she reached the coast, after which -by following the cliffs to the right she would reach -the Lodge, and from there the way to Kilmorack -House.</p> - -<p>She had grown accustomed to the silences and now -and then paused in her pacing to stop and listen. -She thought she heard a sound different from the -others—behind her it seemed, a subdued murmur, -which, as she listened, grew in intensity until she -clearly made it out to be the quick reverberations of a -motor, running with its cut-out open. It was coming -fast, and in a moment a long fan of light shot across -the sky from below the brow of a distant hill and then -fell suddenly to earth, where it picked out the shapes -of trees and bushes along what appeared to be its -road. The motor was not traveling toward her, but -at an angle which would make it pass near her, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -quickly as she mounted and rode toward it she was -unable even to come within earshot before the machine -had passed and was lost to sight in the distance. It -had not gone by so rapidly that Doris had not been -able to make out on a rise of ground against the sky -the profile of a roadster and the shapes of two men. -Cyril and Stryker! There could be no doubt of it, -for the body of Cyril’s car was familiar to her and -the chances of any other machine being abroad in this -locality at this hour were remote indeed. Where were -they going? In which direction? Toward Saltham -Rocks or northward? She did not know, but decided -to take the chance and follow. She reached the road -without difficulty—a trail it appeared to be with well-defined -wheel tracks and the marks of hoofs. She -pressed her horse onward in the wake of the speeding -machine, not to overtake it, but to reach a destination -of some sort which would be better than the utter -loneliness of the desolate moor, the silence and inaction -of which made her a prey to unhappy thoughts. -Her horse was willing, and as the going was good -broke into a brisk trot which for a while kept the glow -of the swinging searchlight of the machine in sight. -But presently that, too, disappeared and all was as -before. And glancing above she understood. To her -right a pale streak of light was showing along the -horizon, and above her between patches of dark clouds -she caught a faint reflection of violet light. It was -the beginning of the dawn.</p> - -<p>Dawn on her right—that meant the east. She was -riding north, then. North—and to what destination? -She had ridden this road with Cyril, but never to its -end, which as she knew was among the unhospitable -crags of Rudha Mor, a wild spot unfrequented by any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -except Cyril’s gamekeepers. What was Cyril’s errand -in the night to such a place when everything that had -happened would seem to indicate the necessity for his -immediate return to London? The same kind of curiosity -that had made her open the package of cigarette -papers against Cyril’s wishes, stimulated her to follow -this quest to its end. She forgot that she had had -no sleep all night, and little the night before. Of -physical weariness now she seemed to have none, and -in the growing light she urged her tired horse forward -into a hard gallop which covered the miles swiftly. -She came to the cliffs and saw the sea, passed inland -again. The going was rougher here, less turf and -more rocks and whins, while to her left the hills were -split by crags which protruded in fantastic shapes, -like heads of prisoned monsters of the underworld -which had forced their way up through the crust of -the earth to the light of day. It was curious. The -trail was well worn here as it had been before, and -there were signs of much hauling. What was going on -at Rudha Mor? The place could not be far distant, -for she saw that the road wound up the rocks and fell -away rapidly into a deep gorge, the further side of -which she could see, dimly colored with the opalescent -tint of the East. This she thought must be nearly the -end of her ride. She did not know what was in store -for her and was doubtful as to her wisdom, but she was -eaten with curiosity, and dismounted, led her horse -slowly to the lip of the gorge and peered over. What -she saw made her gasp. She drew quickly back, tethered -her horse to a bush and came forward again. -Near by, under a shed built on the brink of the cliff, -was Cyril’s roadster, but of Cyril and Stryker she -saw no sign. Beneath her feet the cliffs fell away rapidly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -by easy steps, down which she marked a well-worn -footpath. The bottom of the gorge was of rock and -sand shelving gradually toward the sea and fairly in -its middle, built strongly of rough lumber, she saw a -shed with wide doors which even now were open—a -large hangar from which as she looked several figures -wheeled forth a huge aëroplane—to a platform of -planks which extended for a long way toward the sea. -From a distance it was difficult to judge its measurements, -but by comparison with the heights of the men -Doris knew that she had never seen a machine so large. -As the east grew lighter she could see Cyril plainly. -He came out of the hangar dressed in leather, gave -some orders which made the other figures hurry and a -series of deafening explosions from the engine as they -“tuned it up,” gave Doris a sense of immediate departure. -For a while she watched, fascinated, her interest -in the size of this huge toy and its possibilities making -a separate mind-picture which superseded all those -that had gone before. But as the light grew stronger -and she made out the color of the wide yellow planes, -she started up with a cry which would have been heard -by the men below her had it not been for the racket -that the engine was making. “A huge machine with -yellow wings,” she remembered Jack Sandys’ description, -“a thousand horsepower at least.” The Yellow -Dove—this was the Yellow Dove and the man of mystery, -its driver, was—Cyril.</p> - -<p>Spellbound and trembling with excitement, she -watched Cyril climb up into one of the seats. Cyril -was going to fly to the Germans, she knew it now, to -obey the commands which had been brought last night -by the German officer, commands to come to Germany -and explain his failure to deliver his secret message to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -Rizzio. They suspected him and yet he was going to -face them. It was desperate, foolhardy, insane. He -would never come back. Not victory, but death—that -was what it meant. She ran out to the very edge of -the rocks, shrieking his name, but the sounds were -lost in the fearful din of the motor below. The explosions -echoed and reëchoed in the gorge which seemed -to quiver with the volume of sound. Not a head from -below was turned up to look at her and she had a sense -of her own unimportance in the immensity of Cyril’s -viewpoint. She saw the yellow machine start slowly -down the incline, gathering momentum as it ran until -it left the runway and rose magnificently, its engine -roaring steadily, clearing the surf and rocks and heading -straight into the growing day.</p> - -<p>O God! That she should have suspected him of -anything base and dishonorable—a man who could -face death as he was doing, as he had been doing for -months. Cyril—the Yellow Dove. There could be no -doubt of it, for she had seen with her own eyes. She -understood now many things that had been a mystery -before; why he could not speak to her; the reasons for -his occasional absences, for his air of indifference, for -his coolness in the face of adverse criticism. She -understood about John Rizzio and the reasons why -Cyril had wanted her to take such precautions in getting -safely back to Ashwater Park, precautions which -she had disregarded. But what mattered about her -when Cyril every day, every hour for months had taken -chances against death, the most ignominious death of -all!</p> - -<p>Her heart was big with pride in him and she followed -the Yellow Dove with her gaze, now rising high -and diminishing rapidly in the mist, her soul in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -moist eyes and on <a href="#image03">her lips</a> which <a href="#image03">were whispering -words that she hoped could follow him into the distance</a>. -Her Cyril, still hers, and England’s—the -Honorable Cyril whom the world had come to know -as the Yellow Dove.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 378px;"> -<a id="image03"> - <img src="images/image03.jpg" width="378" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_130">“Her lips ... were whispering words that she -hoped could follow him into the distance.”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>She stood in the shelter of the rocks, for she knew -now in which way her duty to Cyril lay, and waited -until the aëroplane was but a speck against the sky, -when she turned with a sigh which was almost a gasp of -weariness and walked slowly toward her horse. The -ride before her was long, but by good riding she might -still reach Kilmorack House before Lady Betty’s -guests were up. Otherwise her reputation was gone. -She knew that, for she could make no explanation of -any kind. On that she was——</p> - -<p>Quick footsteps behind her—her arms caught from -behind—a glimpse of a strange face and then something -white over her head—a pungent odor and—unconsciousness.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br /> -<small>VON STROMBERG</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">In the Taunus range north of the Schwartzwald, -lies the village of Windenberg, on the slopes of -the well-wooded hills that lead by slow stages -to higher elevations of the Grosser Feldberg. In the -valleys are vineyards, orchards, chestnut and almond-groves -and in times of peace, the people are contented, -well-to-do and industrious. The schloss of the -Counts von Winden stands upon an eminence and looks -down upon a rolling country of velvety woods extending -for miles along the slope of the range. In this -region of firs and beech trees one might walk for miles -off the roads without coming upon a sign of human -habitation, or indeed without passing the boundaries -of the von Winden estate.</p> - -<p>But three miles from Winden Schloss well hidden -among the hills was a spot of cleared land containing -perhaps two hundred acres which had been once used -by the von Winden family as a farm, but had been -taken since the beginning of the war by the State for -purposes of its own. A good road led to Windenberg -five miles away through the forest, but much secrecy -attached to Blaufelden, as the place was called. Men -of the Imperial Forest Service kept guard upon all the -roads, and no one but those having official permission -were allowed to come within two miles of the place.</p> - -<p>A visit would have soon explained the reasons for -this extraordinary care on the part of the men in uniform,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -for not far from the house and stables, unobtrusive -buildings of brick and stone, were aviation -sheds, a well-supplied garage and storage houses, -which indicated at almost any hour of the day or night -a military activity.</p> - -<p>Within the farmhouse of Blaufelden, rather late in -a night in March a tall iron-gray figure, slender, buttoned -to the neck in a close-fitting uniform coat, paced -slowly up and down. A plain wooden table stood in -the center of the room. It was lighted by a lamp with -a green shade and covered with papers arranged in -orderly piles. There were chairs, strongly but simply -made, and a sad-colored rug, and the walls were decorated -with pictures of hunting scenes, while over the -stone fireplace in which the pine logs intermittently -blazed, there was a colored lithograph of the Emperor -of Germany. It was the kind of room, and the kind -of furniture one would expect to find in any of the -rural districts of the great empire, with the one difference -that nowhere was there visible the touch of a -woman’s hand. Whatever its original purpose the -room at the present moment contained only the essentials -of the barest comfort. And the figure of the -man in uniform, erect, silent and austere, completed -the impression which the barrack-like simplicity of his -surroundings created—order, cleanliness, efficiency expressed -in the simplest terms.</p> - -<p>The German officer stopped pacing the room and -touched a bell upon the table. His brows were furrowed -and his broad capable hands tapped impatiently -among the documents. His summons was answered -almost immediately by a man in the uniform of the -Jägers, the Imperial Forest Service, who stood silently -his heels together awaiting orders.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> - -<p>“There has been no word?” asked the officer in -German.</p> - -<p>“None, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“You stationed your men as I directed?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz——”</p> - -<p>The officer paused. And then, “Send Herr Hauptmann -von Winden the moment he arrives.”</p> - -<p>The man saluted, wheeled and went out, closing the -door noiselessly behind him. The tall figure regarded -the door fixedly for a moment in deep thought, and -then tapped the back of his left hand with the fingers -of his right, a habit he had when things were not going -to his liking. General Graf von Stromberg, Privy -Councilor to the German Emperor and head of the -military sections of the Secret Service, was not a person -accustomed to have things go wrong, and delay of -any kind annoyed him exceedingly.</p> - -<p>But the door of the room opened and a young officer -in uniform appeared and stood awaiting the will -of his superior. He was blond, ruddy and well set up -and bore all the marks of the army training—a member -beyond doubt of the military caste with something -in the clearly cut, if somewhat arrogant, features of -his face which suggested good blood and lineage.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Herr Hauptmann!” said the General, frowning. -“You have heard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. He should be here by midnight.”</p> - -<p>“What was the cause of the delay?”</p> - -<p>“He was forced to come down at Ostend, yesterday. -It has taken him all day to make repairs. He is on -the way now.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg grunted and sank into his chair at -the table, motioning the younger officer into one beside -him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Come, sit down. Let’s forget that we are parts of -the intricate machinery of State. Here is a cigar. -Smoke. It will do you good.”</p> - -<p>Von Winden, flattered by this mark of condescension, -obeyed.</p> - -<p>“You are glad?” von Stromberg asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. I am glad. It is not the kind of -thing one wants to be worried about—one’s own flesh -and blood. But I knew there must have been a mistake.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg puffed his smoke toward -the ceiling and stretched his long legs upon the -floor.</p> - -<p>“It is very curious. I am not sure that I understand. -Herr Rizzio is a careful man and he has much -at stake. Why should your cousin Hammersley have -refused to take cognizance of his credentials?”</p> - -<p>“He had doubtless good reasons of his own. But -since he will soon be here he will answer your questions -himself. The fact that he comes at all, Excellenz, -should be proof of his loyalty.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the General thoughtfully. “That -should be true. One doesn’t thrust one’s head into the -lion’s mouth for the mere pleasure of examining his -teeth. Who sent this message?”</p> - -<p>“General von Betzdorf.”</p> - -<p>“There were no other wireless communications?”</p> - -<p>“None, Excellenz. But Stammer should reach Wilhelmshaven -tonight.”</p> - -<p>The General smoked silently for a moment, and -then:</p> - -<p>“Herr Hammersley’s mother was a Prussian?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz, a sister of my mother——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I remember now. Von Eppingen——” the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -General muttered, his brows wrinkled. And then, -“You saw much of your cousin?”</p> - -<p>“For a while he went with me to the gymnasium, -then to the University of Heidelberg. He has come -over each year and shot with me here at Windenberg.”</p> - -<p>“You are fond of him?”</p> - -<p>Von Winden shrugged.</p> - -<p>“He is my relative. We have always got along. I -should not have cared to find that he was a traitor.”</p> - -<p>The General smoked silently, his gaze on the fire.</p> - -<p>“But his father was an Englishman, Graf von Winden. -We can’t forget that. Tell me. You have -known him always. What was his attitude at the University? -Did he show a real affection for German life -and customs? In short was he ever able to forget that -half of him was English?”</p> - -<p>Udo von Winden pulled at his small blond mustache -thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“I can only say that he was quieter than most of -us. But he was popular. He was a member of the -Saxe-Borussia and represented the Corps on the Mensurboden -against Suevia and Guestphalia. A Prussian -for all that any of us knew— Prussian of Prussians.”</p> - -<p>“His father died when he was quite young, I believe?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. But his father, too, had lived -much in Germany. He was a diplomat and scholar -and enjoyed the friendship of the Iron Chancellor. -That was before the ‘Hassgesang,’ Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“Or before the ‘Tag,’” growled the General. “Your -loyalty to your cousin is natural, but loyalty to the -Vaterland——”</p> - -<p>Udo von Winden rose quickly.</p> - -<p>“You would not suggest, Excellenz——?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Quatsch!</i> Sit down, Captain. I suggest nothing. -There are merely some phases of the question which -puzzle me. Perhaps when he arrives he can explain -them.”</p> - -<p>“He will explain. I will stake my honor on it.”</p> - -<p>“I trust so. This is hardly a time when my department -can afford to make mistakes in the character of -those in its employ.”</p> - -<p>“But, Excellenz, you surely have no cause to doubt -the exactness of the information he has furnished -you!”</p> - -<p>“It depends upon what you mean by exactness. Our -information, as you know, comes from a number of -sources. Some of it has proven valuable—some useless. -Herr Hammersley’s has been neither the one nor -the other.”</p> - -<p>“But the British fleet at Cuxhaven——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, he gave us that, but they came two days earlier -than we expected. It cost us the <i>Blücher</i>.”</p> - -<p>“But you knew that the orders were changed—and -he sent a wireless——”</p> - -<p>“The morning the <i>Blücher</i> was sunk,” said von -Stromberg dryly.</p> - -<p>“But, Excellenz, he gave us a clear sea for the raid -on Falmouth!”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg rose and laid his hand on -von Winden’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“You are younger than I, Graf von Winden. The -Secret Service makes a maxim to believe everyone -guilty until he proves his innocence.”</p> - -<p>“But Herr Hammersley?”</p> - -<p>“We have reason to believe that the British Government -permitted the raid on Falmouth, as a means of -increasing the enlistments.” He slowly paced the floor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -and then said reassuringly, “Oh, I merely question—I -merely question——”</p> - -<p>His words trailed off and Udo von Winden stood -silently until he spoke again. “Oh, very well. We -shall see—we shall see.”</p> - -<p>A knock at the door and an orderly entered.</p> - -<p>“Well?”</p> - -<p>“Dispatches, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>Udo von Winden watched his superior officer as he -dismissed the man and broke the seal of a large envelope -and read, the lamplight playing on his long bony -features, giving his sharp nose a peculiarly vulture-like -avidity. The importance of the communication was -obvious, for the small eyes under the heavy thatch of -brows flamed in sudden interest. The General read the -paper through quickly and then slipped it between the -buttons of his coat.</p> - -<p>“That will be all, Herr Hauptmann——” he said, -with a return of his military abruptness. “You will -go at once to the hangar and await the arrival of Herr -Hammersley.” And as the officer moved toward the -door: “Also, you will first tell Herr Hauptmann -Wentz that I wish to see him at once.”</p> - -<p>Von Winden clapped his heels together, saluted and -went out while the General paced the floor of the room -again tapping the back of his left hand with his right. -“It is curious,” he muttered to himself. “A coincidence -perhaps, but strange. And yet—possible.”</p> - -<p>While he was reading the document again Captain -Wentz entered. He was short, thickly set and dark -with a blue chin and heavy eyebrows, the type of a -man who rises in the service from sheer ability. He -waited at the door, immovable, in the presence of the -great man until ordered to approach.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<p>“An important message has come from the Wilhelmstrasse, -which indicates a mission of peculiar importance.” -The General paused a moment, his keen -eyes searching Captain Wentz with a terrible tensity, -but the face of the younger man remained expressionless. -He was merely a piece of machinery—excellent -machinery.</p> - -<p>“You may have thought it curious, Herr Hauptmann -Wentz, that I should have come from the Wilhelmstrasse -to Blaufelden. Is it not so?”</p> - -<p>“It is not my duty to think, Excellenz, unless ordered -to do so,” said the other briefly.</p> - -<p>The General smiled. The answer pleased him.</p> - -<p>“I wished to see Herr Hammersley, as you know. -That is important, and the Yellow Dove cannot go to -Berlin.” He stopped and then went on quickly: “Herr -Hauptmann, you have been attached to the Secret Service -Department three years?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“You have performed several important duties and -have won promotion. I am now about to commit to -your care, a——”</p> - -<p>At a gesture of von Stromberg’s thumb the officer -went on tiptoe to the door and opened it quickly.</p> - -<p>“No one, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“Good. Now sit. First, you speak French without -accent.”</p> - -<p>“That was a part of my qualification for this service.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. It is in my mind to give you an important -mission—one which will require great skill and fortitude.”</p> - -<p>Wentz listened attentively, but he made no comment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It is unnecessary of course to warn you to hold -what I tell you in the strictest confidence.”</p> - -<p>“I do not talk, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“This is a matter of grave importance to the Empire, -a matter which concerns one of the enemies of -the Vaterland. The safe delivery of certain dispatches -which I am to receive may mean a readjustment of the -European situation—perhaps the end of the war with -Germany victorious and England humiliated.”</p> - -<p>The eyes of Captain Wentz grew a little rounder -and sparkled ever so slightly, but he said nothing.</p> - -<p>“I am telling you this that you may know the importance -of the duty I am giving you. It is an honor -which I hope you will appreciate, an honor that may -lead to greater favors than you have hitherto received.”</p> - -<p>“I hope I may deserve them, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg took the paper from his -breast and glanced over it again.</p> - -<p>“You will remember,” he continued, “the affair of -the Socialist, Gottschalk?”</p> - -<p>“I knew nothing of the details, Excellenz. That -matter came in the duty of Oberleutnant von Weringrade.”</p> - -<p>“This much then, only, I need tell you. Herr -Gottschalk, who lived at Schöndorf near here, came -into the possession, in a manner which need not be described, -of certain important papers. He kept them -for some time, not aware of their importance, and then -realizing their value and being a good German, though -opposed to the war, two weeks ago communicated with -the Government. The result of this correspondence -was a summons from Berlin and the delivery of these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -papers into the hands of the Emperor. Do you follow -me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“This letter which I have just received by special -messenger informs me that His Majesty has decided -to act at once, and gives me three days in which to -make arrangements to have these papers, which will be -forwarded tomorrow, delivered to General Dalmier, -commanding at Verdun, to be handed before a certain -date, to the President of the French Republic. You -are to be the bearer of those letters. They must be -delivered personally. You will be provided with the -proper passes and facilities, including an armed escort -to the French lines. From there you must trust to -your own resources. The important matter is that -no one, not even Captain von Winden, shall suspect -your mission. Perhaps now you will realize the confidence -I am reposing.”</p> - -<p>“I am honored, Excellenz. These papers will arrive -tomorrow?”</p> - -<p>“Tomorrow night by automobile at eleven, by the -Schöndorf road.”</p> - -<p>“And until then——?”</p> - -<p>“You will have time to make your arrangements.”</p> - -<p>“I shall prepare, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>Captain Wentz rose, but the General halted him.</p> - -<p>“One thing more. Herr Hammersley is returning -tonight from England with dispatches. He is to be -carefully watched tonight and tomorrow, though I -shall let him believe that he moves in perfect freedom. -You will give the necessary orders. Also I would like -you to keep watch outside the door when he is brought -to this room, which may be at any moment.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zu befehl, Excellenz.</i>”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That is all. You may go.”</p> - -<p>Left alone, General von Stromberg took a chair -facing the fire, and lighted another cigar. For many -years he had been engaged in deciphering interesting -problems and in preparing problems for other persons -to decipher. Therefore it may be truly said that his -was the analytical mind, the mind of the chemist, of -the mathematician, and the philosopher, with so complete -a schooling in the trade of deception that all -things and all persons in the cosmic scheme except -himself were objects of suspicion. For him the obvious -was the negligible and by converse the negligible of -prime importance. As he had said to von Winden, -every man was guilty until he was proven innocent. -He had a rare nose for scenting unsuspected odors, -and a fine hand for finding the weak links in the armor -of those he used as well as of those who sought to use -him. He had a faculty for appearing at places where -he was least expected and a prescience almost miraculous -in forestalling the moves of his adversaries. He -ruled by fear and by admiration and there was not a -man in the Empire with a skeleton in his closet, no -matter how high his station, who did not live without -a terror of von Stromberg in his heart.</p> - -<p>But the habit of mind of suspecting everybody, -while it had placed him upon the safe side of every -equation, had also resulted, through the elimination -of the sentimental, in eliminating the more direct contacts -with human nature. To judge a man by his -possibilities for venality is like judging a rose by the -sharpness of its thorn. Something of the weakness of -this cynicism had been apparent to the keen intellect -of von Stromberg and he had been finding of late a -rare pleasure in trifling with his convictions, admitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -into the stored cavern of his mind for experimental -purposes, an occasional ray of optimism. At the present -moment he was analyzing the result of his summons -to Herr Hammersley to come to Germany at once and -the communication from Herr Rizzio which impugned -Herr Hammersley’s loyalty to Germany. Von Stromberg -had known Herr Rizzio for years and had done -him more than one service in finding ways to cater to -his passion for collecting objects of art. It was German -social influence secretly exerted that had helped -to make easy Rizzio’s rise in favor at the court of St. -James. There had been a possibility that some day -John Rizzio might be of service to von Stromberg and -to Germany. And von Stromberg had long been laying -the plans which had made his system of espionage -the most perfect in Europe. Von Stromberg had -found Rizzio’s weakness and had traded on it, saving -his most tempting bait for his greatest service, the -betrayal of the home of his adoption. He weighed -Rizzio contentedly sure of his own power over him and -despising him for having been so easily bought. Rubens’s -“Descent from the Cross”! There were fortunately -other Rubenses in conquered territory—some -very good ones that John Rizzio might like. Von -Stromberg had made a list of them. He had learned -that it was as necessary to be provided with bribes -as with threats. Fortunately Rizzio himself had given -him material for the latter. Racially, the great Councilor -did not like Latins, and he was quite sure he -cared less for Italians now than he did before the -proclamation of neutrality. They were not to be -trusted by good Germans. If Rizzio had played false -to the country of his adoption for the sake of a paltry -picture, it was within the bounds of possibility that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -he could be false to Germany if the necessity arose for -an even smaller consideration. Yesterday morning before -leaving Berlin for Windenberg, von Stromberg -had received a dispatch from Rizzio which told of his -departure on his yacht from Scotland for Bremen. -This was curious—also interesting. Rizzio was needed -in England and was useless in Germany. Why was -he coming? Had something been learned of him at -Scotland Yard? Or had his departure to do with the -case of Herr Hammersley? Whatever the visit meant, -it was necessary, very necessary, to have Rizzio and -Hammersley together at once, so he had deemed it wise -to send orders to Bremen to have Rizzio caught on -the wireless and when he reached port sent through -at once to Windenberg.</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg smiled in self-gratulation. There -would be no loose ends about this affair. Merely as a -precaution in so important a matter he had set one -agent to watch another. Byfield had been watched by -Hammersley, who in turn had been watched by Rizzio, -who had been watched by Herr Maxwell, an agent -long in von Stromberg’s service. Rizzio had been given -the power and credentials to use his discretion with -Hammersley. Why had not Hammersley relinquished -the cigarette papers to Rizzio? Hammersley should -have good reasons for his refusal. Was there reason -for Hammersley to suspect Rizzio? Herr Maxwell, -who had been set to watch Rizzio, was silent. This -was puzzling. What had happened to Herr Maxwell?</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg threw his finished cigar into -the fire and got up, rubbing his hands together. Oh, -it was very interesting—very. The situation was rapidly -approaching culmination. In a short while all the -threads of this pretty tangle would be within reach of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -his long fingers. And all that he, von Stromberg, had -to do was to catch them by the ends and hold. What -would Herr Hammersley bring?</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg straightened, listening. -The sound of voices and men outside. So. He was -here already. There had been no sound from the machine. -Of course, he had planed down. A knock on -the door and von Winden, Wentz and Hammersley -entered.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br /> -<small>HAMMERSLEY EXPLAINS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">At the sight of the tall figure of von Stromberg, -Hammersley halted for the fraction of a second -and then came forward into the room. -He still wore his leather jacket and cap, but the wind -burn on his cheeks gave his eyes, which had been protected -by goggles, a singular grayness. He had had -no sleep and his face was drawn in haggard lines, but -his greeting showed no signs of uneasiness.</p> - -<p>“Had I known you were awaiting me, Excellenz, I -should perhaps have made quicker repairs.”</p> - -<p>“It does not matter that you are late,” said von -Stromberg quickly. “The thing of main importance -is that you are here.” The General turned and made a -motion to the door of the room. “I wish to be alone -with Herr Hammersley. Herr Hauptmann von Winden, -you are relieved from duty for the night. Herr -Hauptmann Wentz, you will remain within call.”</p> - -<p>The two officers saluted and retired and the General -motioned Hammersley to approach.</p> - -<p>“You have it?” he asked briefly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. Here.”</p> - -<p>He produced from an inner pocket a small package -wrapped in oiled paper and handed it to von Stromberg.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” He went quickly over to the table and tearing -off the wrapper of the bundle opened the packet of -Riz-la-Croix and found the hidden message which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -scanned quickly, with muttered ejaculations of satisfaction -and surprise. Hammersley by the fireplace -was warming his hands.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ganz gut!</i>” said the General, straightening and -turning. “You had difficulties?”</p> - -<p>“More than usual, Excellenz. Captain Byfield is in -prison.”</p> - -<p>“Caught!”</p> - -<p>Hammersley nodded.</p> - -<p>“They found letters at his rooms.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Schafskopf!</i> Were there no fires?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged.</p> - -<p>“He is to be tried by court-martial. He will be -shot.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg deliberated a moment.</p> - -<p>“And were you suspected?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. They followed me to Scotland, but fortunately -the Yellow Dove is still a mystery—at least it -was yesterday morning, and I got safely away.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg was scrutinizing him keenly.</p> - -<p>“H—m. What makes you think that you were followed?”</p> - -<p>“I left London by night train but got off at Edinburgh -where my motor met me. But the wire was -faster, and they had sent word to stop me. They -stretched a rope across the road, but I saw it and -went around. They fired at me——”</p> - -<p>“When was this?”</p> - -<p>“Three nights ago.”</p> - -<p>“They didn’t hit you——”</p> - -<p>“A mere scratch across the arm——”</p> - -<p>“Let me see it.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley looked into von Stromberg’s face and -laughed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Really?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>Rather stiffly Hammersley took off his leather jacket -and sweater and rolled up the sleeve of his flannel shirt. -Von Stromberg examined the wound with interest.</p> - -<p>“So——” he said. “Put on your coat. And after -that?”</p> - -<p>“I kept away from Ben-a-Chielt and put up for the -night at my cousin’s.”</p> - -<p>“Who is that?”</p> - -<p>“Lady Heathcote——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. It was at her house in London that the -message passed to you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg paused a moment and then spoke -abruptly.</p> - -<p>“Why did you not give the papers to Rizzio?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s gaze met the General’s squarely.</p> - -<p>“They were too important. I could not take the -risk.”</p> - -<p>“But his orders superseded yours.”</p> - -<p>“I saw—but I could not take the risk.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because I had reason to believe that Rizzio was -acting for the English Government.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg’s burning gaze flickered and went -out. He took a few paces across the room, his right -hand tapping the back of his left. At last he came -and stood before Hammersley, his hands behind his -back.</p> - -<p>“What were your reasons for believing that?”</p> - -<p>“Maxwell learned it from Byfield.”</p> - -<p>“Maxwell! You saw Maxwell—when?”</p> - -<p>“The night I left London.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Has anything happened to him?” quickly.</p> - -<p>“I do not know.”</p> - -<p>The General frowned into the fire.</p> - -<p>“It is strange,” he muttered. “Very strange. You -did not realize then that I suspected you?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley laughed.</p> - -<p>“Not at once. I did later. That is your privilege, -Excellenz. But I refused to be caught under the circumstances. -I preferred to take the risk of failure. -After all, you see, I succeeded.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg was not immune from the -frankness of Hammersley’s smile. He turned toward -the table and scrutinized the papers with great care.</p> - -<p>“These are the very papers you got from Herr Captain -Byfield?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s reply was startling.</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately, no. The original papers were -burned——”</p> - -<p>“Burned!” cried the General, turning in his chair.</p> - -<p>“But not before I had made this copy, which I put -in a safe place.”</p> - -<p>“Explain.”</p> - -<p>“I was followed, leaving Lady Heathcote’s dinner -party in an automobile, by agents of Scotland Yard. -I had the slower machine and they caught me. But -not before I had passed the original papers to my -companion——”</p> - -<p>“Your companion—a woman?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz, there was nothing else to do. She -escaped while they were searching me and kept the -papers——”</p> - -<p>“Who was this woman?”</p> - -<p>“My fiancée.”</p> - -<p>“Her name?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Doris Mather.”</p> - -<p>“English?”</p> - -<p>“No, American.”</p> - -<p>“And what happened then?”</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, she read them. She is devoted to the -English cause. I could do nothing. She learned that -I was acting for Germany and, rather than let them -fall into my hands, she burned them. It makes no -difference to you or to the Vaterland, since I have -brought the message here, except that my own utility -in England is gone.”</p> - -<p>“I should be sorry to be obliged to believe you.”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid, Excellenz, that there is nothing left -for you to do.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg was again busy examining -the cigarette papers. Suddenly he raised his head, -his gaze boring into Hammersley’s face.</p> - -<p>“You say this is a copy of the original message?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“And where did you make it?”</p> - -<p>“In the library upstairs at Lady Heathcote’s in -Park Lane.”</p> - -<p>“When?”</p> - -<p>“After my interview with Herr Rizzio. It is written -hurriedly, as you will observe.”</p> - -<p>“It is written with a pen finer than those usually -employed by ladies.”</p> - -<p>“I took what offered, Excellenz,” said Hammersley.</p> - -<p>“What was your thought when you made the copy?”</p> - -<p>“That Rizzio or his agents would attempt to get it -away from me. It seems that I was right.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure that he was acting for England and -not for me?” asked von Stromberg quickly.</p> - -<p>“For <em>you</em>, Excellenz?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Did it not occur to you that your failure to accede -to his request might have given Herr Rizzio the idea -that you were saving this document from him in order -that you might deliver it to the War Office?”</p> - -<p>“How could such an idea occur to me when I already -knew what his object was?”</p> - -<p>“Oh! You are convinced that he is for the English -cause?”</p> - -<p>“Naturally. I can conceive of no reason why Rizzio -should be for Germany.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg smiled. If this were skill in parry, -he rejoiced in having met his match. If it were merely -ingenuousness, he was equally at a loss. He had often -admitted to himself that there were but two kinds of -people in the world that he could not cope with—those -who never lost their tempers and those who told the -truth. He had taken advantage of Hammersley’s -physical condition to provoke him into irritation, but -the man was quite unruffled. The piercing eye, the -threatening tone and the dominant air of authority -which von Stromberg had so frequently found effective -with others had been of no avail here. Herr Hammersley -stood by the fire, erect and unperturbed, calmly -awaiting his dismissal. If he had told the truth, then -Rizzio——</p> - -<p>“Herr Rizzio has advised me that you are disloyal -to Germany,” said the General at last. “You inform -me that he is loyal to England.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged and laughed.</p> - -<p>“If I were disloyal to Germany, surely I had proof -enough of your suspicions in your secret summons, to -remain at Ben-a-Chielt. It is unnecessary for me to -say that I should have come without that summons, -because it was dangerous for me to stay.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You would, then, have me disregard the message -from Herr Rizzio?”</p> - -<p>“No. I merely ask that you wait until you hear -from Herr Maxwell.”</p> - -<p>“And if Herr Maxwell be dead?” asked von Stromberg -quietly.</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s face became grave.</p> - -<p>“In that case, Excellenz, I must rely on your keenness -to decide the issue between us.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg slipped the packet of papers into -an inner pocket and rose with a laugh. He covered -the distance between himself and Hammersley in three -paces with extended hands.</p> - -<p>“I was only trying you, Herr Hammersley. It is a -habit of mine. It amuses me. You will forgive me, -<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Willingly, Excellenz, if you will provide me with -food and a bed. Failing those, you may have me shot -at once.”</p> - -<p>“Food you shall have, and a bed is prepared in your -room upstairs. As for the shooting, perhaps we may -as well postpone that until morning.”</p> - -<p>He laughed jovially, showing a very fine set of -teeth, and, touching a bell which was answered by Captain -Wentz, directed that food and coffee be prepared -at once.</p> - -<p>“One word more,” he went on, when Wentz went out, -“where did you put this copy after leaving Lady -Heathcote’s in London?”</p> - -<p>“I slipped it down the window sash in my automobile. -They did not even search for it. I got away -by a ruse.”</p> - -<p>“No one saw it?”</p> - -<p>“No one. The message is the same.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - -<p>“H—m! You have a good memory?”</p> - -<p>“Excellent.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure that the War Office knew of your -movements?”</p> - -<p>“Positive. I know of no one who would try to -kill me——”</p> - -<p>“Rizzio?”</p> - -<p>“Acting for England, yes.”</p> - -<p>“And if he were acting for Germany?”</p> - -<p>“Then he is a fool.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg folded his long arms and gazed at -the lamp.</p> - -<p>“You do not feel that it would be possible to return -at once?”</p> - -<p>“Not unless I wished to be shot as a spy.”</p> - -<p>“What will you do?”</p> - -<p>“Take whatever service you will give me. Failing -that I will volunteer for aviation.”</p> - -<p>The General, without pursuing the subject further, -motioned Hammersley to the door.</p> - -<p>“You will find food ready. After eating you had -better get to bed. I will talk with you further in the -morning.”</p> - -<p>As the door closed behind his visitor von Stromberg -sank into the chair by the fire and lighted a third -cigar, upon which he pulled steadily for some moments, -rehearsing by question and reply almost every word of -Hammersley’s story. By every rule of the game as -he knew it Herr Hammersley should be a liar. And -yet his story from first to last held water. There was -not a flaw in its texture from beginning to end. If -Hammersley had not told the truth he was the most -skillful liar in Europe, a man who gave the appearance -of truthfulness to the last hair of his head. And yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -it was much more easy to lie if one knew that there -was no man to oppose him. Hammersley did not know -that Rizzio was on the way. Tomorrow they would -meet. It would be interesting to watch that meeting. -For, as to this thing, the mind of the General was -clear. One of these men was false to Germany, the -other true, but which? Both had come willingly, or -was it by necessity? And Herr Maxwell! It was -strange that Maxwell should have failed in his report -at this crucial moment. And if Maxwell were dead—who -had betrayed him? General von Stromberg’s -thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and -the entrance of the orderly.</p> - -<p>“A telegram, Excellenz, by motorcycle from Windenberg.”</p> - -<p>The General opened the paper. It was in code and -he translated it rapidly.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="noi"> -<span class="smcap">Von Stromberg</span>:</p> - -<p>Withhold judgment until my arrival. Will be -at Bremen tomorrow early with Miss Mather, who -possesses valuable information.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Rizzio.</span></p> -</div> - -<p>General von Stromberg sank deeper into his chair, -the paper in his fingers, a smile broadening upon his -features. The woman! It was almost too good to be -true. Miss Doris Mather, the American girl, Hammersley’s -fiancée, coming to Germany with Rizzio. -And Hammersley obviously did not know it. Intrigue, -mystery and now romance. Tomorrow——</p> - -<p>The man still stood awaiting orders. Von Stromberg -rose with a yawn.</p> - -<p>“Is my room prepared?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Which one?”</p> - -<p>“The same as before—next to that of Herr Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>“Well, move it into the wing. And when I go up -you will set a watch upon my door—also one outside -my windows.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zu befehl, Excellenz.</i>”</p> - -<p>“In the meanwhile send Herr Hauptmann Wentz -to me here.”</p> - -<p>The man went out and Captain Wentz entered immediately -closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p>“What time does the northern express leave Bremen -in the morning?”</p> - -<p>“At seven.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg sat and wrote out a message.</p> - -<p>“Have this message sent at once.” And then, “That -train reaches Windenberg at what hour?”</p> - -<p>“Twelve.”</p> - -<p>“Good. This mountain air is excellent for the -nerves. I shall sleep late tomorrow and do not wish to -be called. You will go personally to Windenberg at -eleven o’clock with a closed carriage. You will meet -Herr Rizzio, whom you will recognize by his tall, distinguished -appearance and excellent clothing. He will -be accompanied by a young lady. It is my wish that -they be brought to this house and given separate rooms -on the upper story and placed under guard until I -summon them. No one must see them enter this house. -To accomplish this purpose, Herr Hammersley must -go to the hangar. The means I leave to you. Captain -von Winden will be of service. Do you understand?”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> - -<p>“For the present that is all. I shall go to my room. -Good night.”</p> - -<p>“Good night, Excellenz.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Meanwhile, upstairs in his room, Hammersley, after -having eaten, was preparing for bed. For a tired -man he went about it in a very leisurely way, smoking -a cigarette, and wandering about the room stretching -his long limbs and yawning between whiles. Then, -after a time, he took off his clothes and bathed. It -was perhaps an hour before he blew out his candle, -and even then he did not get immediately into bed. -He sat on the edge of the couch for a while, listening -and watching the cold moonlight outside his dormer -window, or the dim line of light that came from beneath -the door into the hall. Then, apparently satisfied -that he was to be quite free from interruption, he -straightened and stood up, waiting again. Still no -sound. He reached for the table, where he had put -his watch and the things from his pockets, and picked -up a large pocket-knife, carefully opening the large -blade. Then, with quick, noiseless footsteps, he -crossed the room to the fireplace and felt with the fingers -of one hand carefully along the edge of the chimney -breast. His fingers reached a spot where there -was an unevenness, and feeling carefully, thrust the -knife-blade its full length beneath the paper, slowly -withdrawing it. Something protruded which was -quickly taken into the palm of his left hand. With -great care he smoothed the broken wallpaper back into -its place and noiselessly closing the knife got softly -into bed.</p> - -<p>He lay on his back for a while, his eyes wide open, -watching the window and the door and then, pulling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -the heavy blankets up, slipped lower and lower under -the covers until he disappeared from view. In the -room all was dark, but under the blankets he read by -the light of an electric pocket torch some writing in -German upon a thin slip of paper.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Papers arrive tomorrow night, eleven—from -Berlin—automobile—by Schöndorf road.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br /> -<small>THE UNWILLING GUEST</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">After the light of dawn went out upon the -cliffs of Rhuda Mor, Doris Mather hung for -a long while upon the brink of an abyss, below -her darkness, above her light. She strove upward, -but in the dim moments of half-consciousness -was aware of a force restraining her and a recurrence -of the odor in which the darkness had first come. She -had a sense of motion and of jolting, the feeling of -arms about her, a descent, the sound of water and the -rocking of a boat. Brief glimpses she had of sunlight, -which revealed outlines dimly, like the glow of -summer lightning upon familiar objects, making them -curiously unfamiliar. John Rizzio’s face persisted in -these visions, a fantastic Rizzio, much larger than the -man she knew, deferential and punctilious as ever, and -strangely grave. A stout man with a swarthy face -in a cap and brass buttons, just above her, darkly -outlined against white clouds which seemed to be whirling -rapidly past him. Dully she found herself wondering -where the clouds were going so rapidly and -why they didn’t come back.... Later, darkness and -peace, where there were no visions and the sky no -longer whirled ... a steady vibration which soothed -her, and she blissfully slept.</p> - -<p>When she awoke the visions were gone, and as her -senses returned she started up, but her head swam -and she sank back again. As she had risen a woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -emerged from the shadows of the room and came forward. -And then slowly, as full consciousness returned, -the girl realized that she was on an ocean-going vessel -in a cabin or stateroom very beautifully appointed. -She started up in her bed and looked out of the port-hole -to see the amber crests of waves leaping rapidly -past. Then she heard the woman’s voice speaking.</p> - -<p>“You are feeling better?”</p> - -<p>Doris turned and looked at her, a woman of middle -age, with a kindly face, dressed in white linen.</p> - -<p>“What yacht is this?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“The <i>Sylph</i>, miss—Mr. Rizzio’s,” she replied.</p> - -<p>Doris thought for a moment. The last thing her -waking consciousness remembered were the cliffs of -Rhuda Mor.</p> - -<p>“How did I come here?” she asked again.</p> - -<p>The woman shook her head. “I don’t know, miss.”</p> - -<p>Her manner was kind and most respectful but her -tone was decisive. She was obeying instructions.</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Rizzio aboard?” Doris asked again.</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss. And he asked me to tell you that when -you felt sufficiently recovered he would be glad to -wait upon you in the saloon.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I understand.”</p> - -<p>When Doris rose and put her feet to the swaying -deck, nausea overcame her. But the woman, who was -prepared for this emergency, offered a glass filled with -cloudy liquid.</p> - -<p>“Drink this,” she said. “It will make you feel better.”</p> - -<p>Doris looked into the woman’s face, and recognizing -the aromatic odor, took the draught.</p> - -<p>The nausea passed after a moment and she managed -to get up and make her way to the bathroom. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -she bathed her face, memory returned, full memory -of the events of the previous night, the scene upon the -cliffs, with Cyril, the destroyer, Rizzio, Stryker, -Rudha Mor, the Yellow Dove and then unconsciousness. -Chloroform! There were vestiges of it upon her clothing -still. They had drugged her. When she took off -her shirtwaist something fell to the floor. A paper. -She picked it up and looked at it. It was Rizzio’s -note to her at Kilmorack House asking her to come to -Ben-a-Chielt—so that he might make her prisoner! -She remembered now that she had thrust it into her -waist when she went out. She folded the letter carefully -and put it in her stays. After the other indignity -she had suffered, it seemed strange that they -had not searched her, too. She would keep the letter. -Perhaps later she would find use for it.</p> - -<p>John Rizzio! It was difficult for her mind to associate -him with the villainy of abduction. And yet, -as her brain grew clearer, she became quite sure that -there was no other answer to the problem. Indeed, -from the replies of the stewardess she knew that John -Rizzio had chosen that she should know it was to be a -problem no longer. The <i>Sylph</i>, that was his yacht. -She had been on the boat before, two years ago, during -the races in the Solent. Abduction! He had -dared! She was not frightened yet. Fury at his -temerity blinded her to all sense of danger. A phrase -of Cyril’s came back to her, illuminating the chaos -of her thoughts. “You know too much—too much -for your own good—or mine.” Cyril’s cigarette papers! -She was the only one beside Cyril who had read -their contents! Rizzio had carried her off, had brought -her to the <i>Sylph</i>, which was out of sight of land, speeding -for—Germany! What was he going to do with her?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> - -<p>Fury passed and weakness followed. She did not -know what time of day it was, but she was aware -that it had been long since she had eaten. In the -cabin she found a tray set with food and coffee which -the stewardess insisted upon serving her. She sank -into an armchair, refusing to eat, but the woman persisted -and the odor of the coffee was tempting. It -was luncheon, she found, and remembered that she had -had no appetite for dinner at Lady Heathcote’s and -that it must be quite twenty-four hours since she had -broken bread. The coffee gave her courage, and in -spite of herself she found that she was eating heartily -with a genuine relish. She was a good sailor and the -nausea, which she now knew was the effect of the drug, -had passed. The stewardess stood beside her and to -the other questions Doris put to her answered politely, -but volunteered nothing further than she had already -told. In spite of the woman’s care and attention the -girl could not get rid of the idea that the stewardess -had been sent as a guardian as well as a maid. She -was a prisoner of John Rizzio, of Germany, whither -he was bringing her as fast as the yacht could take -them.</p> - -<p>Finding at last that her attempts to extract information -from her stolid servitress were fruitless, and -feeling strengthened by the food she had taken, she -got up and told the woman that she was going on deck, -asking that Mr. Rizzio be informed that she would -see him. As she emerged upon deck the crisp wintry -air sent the color slowly into her pallid cheeks. The -yacht was bowling along with the wind and sea quartering -and the foam-crests leaped alongside, sending -an occasional spurt of spray into the air, where the -wind caught it and blew it across the decks in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -feathery mist of rainbows. The sunlight glinted on -polished wood and brasswork and at the stern -caught in the cross of St. George where the flag -of England flapped in the breeze. The flag of England -sheltering John Rizzio! She scanned the horizon -anxiously. Perhaps an English cruiser or destroyer -might come to whom she might be able to tell the real -character of the owner of the vessel. But there was -no vessel in sight. A sailor passed her and touched -his cap. The deference encouraged her. It reminded -her that this was the same deck upon which she had -stood when John Rizzio was suing for her hand, an -honorable host when she had been an honored guest. -A loud crackling came to her ears from the wireless -room. He was there, already in communication with -his employers in Germany. Even now, with Cyril’s -words still ringing in her ears, she found it difficult to -believe that John Rizzio was England’s enemy; and the -price of his treachery a picture, “The Descent from -the Cross”! What a mockery that a man who would -stoop to such dishonor could make its price a picture -which typified the conquest of sublime virtue even -over death!</p> - -<p>The wind was searching and the maid brought a -heavy coat with brass buttons from below and put it -on her with the word that Mr. Rizzio had sent it and -would come to her in a few moments. She sat in a -deckchair in the lee of the deckhouse, her lips firmly -compressed, trying to think what his ulterior purpose -might be, planning a defense which might make her invulnerable, -an attack which might search his intentions -and discover the true relation that was to exist between -them.</p> - -<p>He came toward her from forward, muffled in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -greatcoat, and carrying a rug. He took off his cap -with an air of deference, which answered at once some -of her questions. She rose and faced him, her color -high.</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, -trying to keep her lips from trembling.</p> - -<p>He smiled and pulled at his mustache.</p> - -<p>“First, I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain.”</p> - -<p>“What?” she cried hotly. “What can you explain? -Don’t you suppose I know what you are? A German -spy, a traitor to England, and worse than that—a -woman-baiter and a coward, Mr. Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>He bent his head.</p> - -<p>“I make no defense,” he said, “except necessity.” -And then gravely indicating the chair from which she -had risen. “Won’t you sit down? The voyage may -be long.”</p> - -<p>But she still stood.</p> - -<p>“I am a prisoner, not a guest.”</p> - -<p>“Then I command you to sit,” he said with a laugh. -“Won’t you?”</p> - -<p>A sound of exasperation came from her throat and -she obeyed him, her gaze on the sea, while with some -ostentation he covered her with a rug.</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do with me in Germany?” -she repeated dully.</p> - -<p>He sank into the chair beside her. “As I have often -told you, you are a woman of rare intelligence. In -reply I can only say that, unfortunately, I do not -know.”</p> - -<p>“A coward who is also a—a liar,” she said bitterly.</p> - -<p>“A coward is usually a liar, but a liar isn’t always a -coward. I am a liar, Doris, if you will, but a courageous -one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My name is Mather,” she said distinctly.</p> - -<p>He shrugged and turned his gaze on the sea.</p> - -<p>“You hate me, of course. We are enemies. I am -sorry. I warned you that you were entangled in an -affair that was leading you into dangerous paths. I -would have saved you, if I could, but you had learned -too much.”</p> - -<p>“And so you had me chloroformed. It was a pity -that you didn’t complete your work.”</p> - -<p>“I merely did what was required of me. Through -a most unfortunate combination of circumstances you -came into possession of a secret known to but one -person in England; and you are the only person with -English sympathies who knows my exact political -status——”</p> - -<p>“A spy!” contemptuously.</p> - -<p>“What you will—a spy if you like—but a strong -friend of Germany who resents an attempt by a nation -jealous of her growing commercial supremacy to wipe -her out of existence. I have lived in England long, -and I have known many of the men who have made -her what she is, but never in all those years has England -ever given me one token of the high nobility she -preaches. I have passed for many years as an Englishman. -I am not English. I am cosmopolitan and -to a cosmopolitan, residence is but an accident.”</p> - -<p>“Pray spare me the details of your treachery.”</p> - -<p>He laughed easily.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you’re at my mercy. I shall try to be -lenient. You are an American, I am an Italian. To -call me a traitor to England because I happen to have -a liking for Germany would be much like my calling -you a traitor to Germany because you happen to have -a liking for England.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have never eaten the bread and salt of Germany, -or wormed my way into the hearts of its people.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you flatter me. The people of my set in -London are agreeable, but——”</p> - -<p>Doris had straightened in the act of rising.</p> - -<p>“I did not come on deck to discuss your ideals or -Germany’s. I hope that you will excuse——”</p> - -<p>“You will not listen?”</p> - -<p>“No. I care nothing for your political views. I -am your prisoner. I want to know without further -words the worst that I am to expect from you.”</p> - -<p>“You have been upon the <i>Sylph</i> before. What was -proper for you then is proper for you now. You are -quite safe in my hands. I shall try to make you comfortable. -Does that answer your question?”</p> - -<p>“And after——”</p> - -<p>“You are to be delivered to the head of the Secret -Service Department of the German Empire.”</p> - -<p>The girl paled and sank back into her chair.</p> - -<p>“Why?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Because you are in possession of information that -he wants.”</p> - -<p>“What information? It isn’t true. I know nothing.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” he apologized again. “The cigarette -papers. You read them.”</p> - -<p>“No—no.”</p> - -<p>“You forget that you have already admitted that. -You have also read the second message which was to -take the place of the first.”</p> - -<p>“You are dreaming. A second message? I know -nothing of a second message.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, if I remind you of it. You would -have burned it in the drawing-room at Kilmorack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -House if Mr. Hammersley hadn’t taken it from your -hand.”</p> - -<p>She stared at him bewildered at his astounding omniscience, -his devilish ingenuity. It frightened her, his -cleverness and his pursuit of her. It seemed that she -had never had a chance to get away from him. And -yet his manner was so carefully studied, his attitude -toward her so coldly impersonal that as a man once -a lover she no longer feared him. If love of her had -ever been in his heart, a greater passion had burned -it out. She was grateful for this and prepared to -measure her woman’s wit to his, thinking of Cyril. -What would Cyril have her do?</p> - -<p>“You mean that you will let them—the Germans—question -me?”</p> - -<p>“If they wish to do so.”</p> - -<p>“But how will it benefit them, if the papers are -already in their possession?”</p> - -<p>“You will forgive me if I find it possible to doubt.”</p> - -<p>She turned away from him and studied the lines of -foam that streamed across the green troughs of the -sea.</p> - -<p>“I suppose that conversation between us two is superfluous. -You distrust me and I——”</p> - -<p>“I think perhaps,” he said gravely, “that it would -be pleasanter for both of us not to hear your sentiments -toward me. Since the night of Lady Heathcote’s -dinner in London you ceased to be Miss Doris -Mather and became merely an official document. It is -my duty to preserve it and deliver it safely.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you may succeed. Otherwise the American -Ambassador in Berlin may——”</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately,” he went on quietly, “the American -Ambassador cannot be informed.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> - -<p>She laughed with a greater confidence than she felt.</p> - -<p>“You surely can’t believe that my absence from -England will pass unnoticed. Do you think that my -father—that Lady Heathcote——”</p> - -<p>She paused bewildered.</p> - -<p>“They will merely know that you rode late at night -to Ben-a-Chielt and that your horse was found riderless -on the moor.”</p> - -<p>She buried her face in her hands and a sob broke -from her throat. It was true. They would think her -dead. For the first time she really was able to think -of things in their true aspect.</p> - -<p>“It’s cruel,” she gasped. “How could you!”</p> - -<p>He was too wise to touch her or even by his manner -to show too deep a sympathy.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” he said coolly, “awfully sorry. As -you know, I would have had things different. You -may still doubt me when I say that what I have done -is the hardest task that I ever undertook in my life. -But that is true. You were the only person in England -who jeopardized my existence there. I had to -take you away. I regret the necessity of having to use -force. I shall do what I can here upon the <i>Sylph</i> to -counteract the unpleasant impression of my brutality. -I am not a bully and a woman-baiter. I am a spoke in -the wheel of destiny which you had clogged. By all -the rules of the game you should have died. Reasons -which I need not mention made your death at my hands -an impossibility. So I merely removed you to a place -of safety. No harm shall come to you, I pledge my -honor.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” she said dully, struggling up, her face -away from him. And then dauntlessly, “Small a thing -as it is, I must be content with that.” She had risen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -and turned, “And now, if you don’t mind, I will go -below. I would prefer to be alone. If, as you protest, -you would do me kindness, you will not ask to see me.”</p> - -<p>He bowed.</p> - -<p>“I have given instructions that you shall be allowed -to do as you please. Mrs. Madden will furnish you -with all that you require both I think of linen and -toilet articles. I shall not try to see you again until -we land.”</p> - -<p>She bowed her head and went down. Rizzio watched -her until she disappeared and then walked over to the -rail and peered out over the sea. It had taken some -self-command to go through this interview as he had -planned it, and in conquering himself he had succeeded -in establishing a relation between them which made his -presence at least bearable to her. The impersonal tone -which he had used through the interview was the one -most calculated to put her at her ease with him and -the perfect frankness of his confession had made her -understand at once that sentimentally at least she had -nothing to fear from him. John Rizzio was wise in -the ways of women and the particular woman now -thrown upon his mercy, even though she was the one -woman in the world he had thought the most desirable, -was to be treated with the delicate consideration due -to her unfortunate dependence upon him. A flash of -sentiment, a breath of revelation of his ultimate purposes -toward her, and the woman would be lost to -him. Her misfortunes if anything had made her more -desirable than ever, especially since he had been the -cause of them. For one mad moment, he had thought -this morning of turning the <i>Sylph</i> toward the waters -of the South Atlantic, forgetting the quarrels of the -nations in which he had become involved, and of seeking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -a new world where he could begin again, trusting -to time and opportunity and his own patience and tact -to bring a sentimental victory out of what had already -been defeat. A mad moment but a tempting one. But -the time was not yet. He must be patient. With -Hammersley gone——</p> - -<p>He straightened and slowly strolled forward to the -wireless room. Toward evening he was given confirmation -of the wisdom of his course, for as he was -pacing the deck aft she came up from below and joined -him. She was looking rather white, but she smiled at -him brightly and matched her steps to his.</p> - -<p>“I was lonely below,” she said. “You don’t mind?”</p> - -<p>He had never thought her lovelier. Her face, if -anything, had always needed just those shadows of -pain to make it perfect.</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t hoped for such a kindness. You are feeling -better?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, thanks. And since we must meet I am willing -to try to be friendly.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you’ll find that I’ll meet you more than -halfway,” he said politely.</p> - -<p>They talked far into the evening and at her request -they dined together in the saloon. He was reserved -but not cautious, and when the evening was over remembered -hazily that she had succeeded in learning -something from him of General von Stromberg, the -head of the German Secret Service Department, of the -aviation field at Windenberg and of the frequent flights -of the Yellow Dove since the beginning of the winter.</p> - -<p>The next morning passed quietly. Doris did not -appear until noon. But just before luncheon a smudge -of smoke appeared upon the horizon, which rapidly -grew larger, and in a little while she made out the lines<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -of a war vessel steaming in a direction which would -intercept the yacht. The <i>Sylph</i> did not slow down until -a solid shot from a gun in the forecastle of the destroyer -went ricochetting across her bows, when the -engine was stopped and John Rizzio made slowly aft to -where she stood.</p> - -<p>“Miss Mather,” he said briefly, “I must ask you to -go below to your cabin at once.”</p> - -<p>A glance at his face showed that her protests would -have been useless and she went below to her own stateroom, -the door of which was locked upon her. Through -the heavy glass of her port-hole she saw the vessel approach -until within hailing distance when a boat -dropped from her side into which a boat’s crew and an -officer clambered and rowed alongside. The vessel bore -no flag, but the girl clearly heard the hail of the -boarding officer and realized that the destroyer was -an English vessel. Her hopes rose. Perhaps even now -the Englishman would find something irregular in the -yacht’s papers and would take charge, conveying her -back to England. She waited for a long time and -then heard the clatter of oars and saw the boat push -off from the side of the yacht, while the officer, young, -slender and windburned, stood up in the stern sheets -of his boat.</p> - -<p>“All right,” she heard him say, “sorry to have troubled -you. Pleasant voyage. Good-by.”</p> - -<p>Never had English sounded so good to her. But -it was with a sigh of despair that she saw the boat -reach the side of the war vessel and felt the steadily -increasing rhythm of the engines of the yacht as she -drove once more upon her way.</p> - -<p>When the two vessels were at a distance from each -other the key turned in the lock of the door and in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -reply to a knock, she found John Rizzio himself, standing -hat in hand in the gangway.</p> - -<p>“I seem to be in a continual state of apology. But -of course you realize the necessity for my action.”</p> - -<p>“I am in your power,” she said helplessly.</p> - -<p>“I hope you will believe that I shall not abuse it.”</p> - -<p>She shrugged her shoulders and followed him to -luncheon, managing to preserve at table a cheerfulness -which she was far from feeling. Throughout the -morning she had been thinking hard. And the only -course that was open to her if her courage did not -fail was the one that she was following. If she was -to be able in any way to help Cyril, she must try to -learn what she could, accept the situation with good -grace and perhaps by some turn of good fortune find -a way to disarm John Rizzio and profit by an inadvertence -or mistake. But as the second day wore on she -found her task increasingly difficult. At luncheon Mr. -Rizzio was more reserved and during the afternoon -as they approached waters in which German warships -were more likely to be found he spent much time in the -wireless room, where a repetition of the crackling -noises advised her that he was again in communication -with the land of her enemies.</p> - -<p>After dinner, at which Rizzio had been very quiet, -he requested politely that she go at once to her cabin, -which she did to hear the sound of the key again -turned in the lock of her door. Despair came over her -and at last she cried herself to sleep, awakening during -the night at the glare of a searchlight which pierced -her window port. She got up and looked out to see -a dark bulk looming alongside, the flashing of lanterns, -and heard the sound of voices speaking German. -At last all was quiet again, and the steady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -hammer of the vessel’s propeller told her that the -<i>Sylph</i> was again on her way.</p> - -<p>She must have slept again, for the silver of dawn -was already modifying the gloom of her cabin when -there was a knock upon her door and she rose. The -stewardess fully dressed was outside.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rizzio asks me to request you to please dress -at once, as breakfast will be served in half an hour.”</p> - -<p>She obeyed blindly aware that there was no motion -to the deck of her cabin and that the <i>Sylph</i> was now -riding on an even keel. She verified her guess at the -nearness of their destination by a glance through the -port-hole, which showed her that the vessel had -reached the quieter waters of a bay or river in which -she slipped smoothly onward. There were vessels at -anchor, large and small, and beyond them she made -out the lines of a shore, upon which at intervals buildings -loomed.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Madden, the stewardess, would not talk and it -was not until she reached the breakfast table that -Doris learned where they were.</p> - -<p>“We shall reach Bremen shortly,” said Rizzio. “I -do not know how you feel about the matter, but I -would suggest that it would save you much trouble -and anxiety to trust yourself entirely into my hands.”</p> - -<p>“I know of nothing else,” she said quietly. “What -are you going to do?”</p> - -<p>“I shall confer with certain officials when we reach -the city, which will be in a few moments. After that -we will take the seven o’clock train for Windenberg.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a><br /> -<small>VON STROMBERG CATECHISES</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">To the girl the way from Bremen to Windenberg -seemed interminable. She shared with John -Rizzio a private compartment in the train. -He was still ceremoniously polite and inclined to conversation, -but now, thoroughly realizing the danger -which faced her as well as Cyril, Doris had decided -upon a policy of silence. She would wait until she -learned what they required of her and then perhaps -some instinct or inspiration would direct her. Of one -thing she was certain, that nothing could make her -speak if she did not think it wise to do so.</p> - -<p>When Rizzio commented upon the beauty of the -passing landscape she assented with a smile and then -returned to her own thoughts. Cyril, she knew, would -be at Windenberg, for it was to Windenberg that the -Yellow Dove had made its flights. She had succeeded -in eliciting that much information from her captor -the other night at dinner when he was attempting by -frankness and hospitality to minimize the brutality -of his actions. She had many reasons to believe that -he had already regretted that frankness for at every -subsequent attempt of hers to get more information -about von Stromberg, John Rizzio had turned -the subject adroitly or had remained obstinately -silent.</p> - -<p>She tried to put together the scraps of information -she possessed in order to understand just what Cyril’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -position at Windenberg might be. He had answered -the summons of the secret messenger willingly and at -once. That much was in his favor. If they had suspected -him before, this immediate obedience must have -disarmed them. In the mind of General von Stromberg -there could be no possible reason why Cyril -should put himself at his mercy. General von Stromberg -could not know as she knew that Cyril had another -mission to perform. She looked up quickly to -find John Rizzio’s dark eyes gazing at her. He frightened -her at that moment, for it almost seemed from -the expression of his face that he had succeeded in -reading her thoughts—and in the light of his previous -omniscience even that psychic feat seemed within the -realm of possibility. But he merely smiled at her and -looked out of the window.</p> - -<p>That mission of Cyril’s! What was it? The obtaining -of some information necessary to England? -Some military secret such as the machinery of ordnance -or the chemical mixture of explosive shells? Or -was it something more personal, more sinister and -dreadful—the death of some high official—perhaps the -Emperor himself? She shuddered and shut her eyes, -her mind painting unimaginable horrors. Not murder—even -for Cyril she could not connive at that. But -she must be prepared to do something for him, to help -him, if she could by false testimony or if necessary, -no matter what they did to her, by silence. If they -suspected Cyril, of course he would be kept in ignorance -of her arrival. Of all these things and others -she thought with ever-growing doubt and timidity. -And all the while in the back of her head was the idea -of her possible appeal to the American Ambassador -at Berlin.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> - -<p>But if she had any hopes that an opportunity would -be given her to use the post, or even to be free from -surveillance, their arrival at Windenberg speedily diminished -them. For upon the platform of the small -station a German officer met them and conducted them -at once to a closed carriage which started off through -the village immediately. The officer and Mr. Rizzio -exchanged a few commonplaces which politely included -her, but as to the real meaning of her visit and their -possible intentions—nothing. So she sank back in her -seat and looked out through a small window at the -forest into which the road almost immediately passed, -reaching their destination in apparent calmness, the -high tension of her nerves resolutely schooled to obedience.</p> - -<p>A farmhouse in the midst of meadows surrounded -by forests, with a broad hospitable door in which they -entered, seeing no one. The German officer who directed -them showed her the way to a room upstairs -and when she was in the room locked the door. She -was in the dark, for the shutters of the windows were -closed. Her first impulse at reaching a haven of privacy -even though a prison was to seek the line of least -resistance and give her nerves the relaxation they -needed in tears. But she fought the weakness down, -going to the windows and peering out through a crack -in the shutters. When she tried to open them, she discovered -that they were locked or nailed from the outside. -She had been a prisoner she knew, upon the -yacht, but the firmness with which the hard wood and -iron resisted her efforts gave her for the first time the -grim reality of her predicament. A prisoner in the -heart of a German forest with no way to turn for -help! Where was Cyril? Perhaps after all, her surmises<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -had been incorrect. They had sent him away to -Berlin. Or perhaps he had gone back in freedom to -England. Grave fears assailed her as to Rizzio and -his intentions. Once a friend, but after that an unsuccessful -lover! What did she know of him or of -these people into whose hands he was committing her? -Germans! She was ready to believe anything of them -after Belgium—the worst! Had Rizzio’s story about -bringing her to the head of the Secret Service of Germany -been a mere invention to serve other ends? He -had told her at Kilmorack House that he would never -give her up. Was this what he had meant? A blind -terror seized her which seemed for the moment to -deaden all her faculties for analysis. The room, -though chill, seemed to stifle her, its walls and ceiling -to be closing in to crush her. She stumbled to the bed -upon which she fell and lay for a long while exhausted -and at last the blessing of tears came to her and -then, sleep.</p> - -<p>How long Doris slept she did not know, but she -realized that it could not have been long, for strange -ugly figures came into her dreams and strange ugly -events followed each other with lightning swiftness. -But a knock upon the door brought her back to the -terrors of her predicament and she answered it, wondering -what was to happen. It was a tall man in the -Jäger uniform bearing a tray of food—some toast, -eggs and a cup of chocolate. He entered with a smile -and a polite greeting in German, putting the tray upon -the table and then forcing open the shutters a little so -that a narrow bar of sunlight came into the room and -lay upon the bright drugget upon the floor. By its -light she examined the man. He was tall, grizzled at -the temples and walked with a slight limp. He smiled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -at her again and she could not refrain from answering -the smile in kind.</p> - -<p>“I hope the Fräulein will enjoy her lunch,” he said. -“The toast especially, for I have made it myself. I -trust that the Fräulein prefers dry toast.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, anything will do. I am not hungry.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” said the Forester, bowing and then -continuing in a lower tone: “The Fräulein will not -forget that the toast is excellent and that I made it -myself.”</p> - -<p>She examined him curiously, wondering whether he -were not perhaps a little demented. But at the door -he bowed and disappeared and she heard the key turn -in the lock. He was apparently not too demented to -forget that she was a prisoner.</p> - -<p>She was not hungry but she knew that she must eat -something to keep up her strength for any ordeal that -was in store for her, so she drew a chair to the table -and sat, pouring out the chocolate in the cup and -helping herself to the eggs.</p> - -<p>All the while she thought of the strange behavior of -her servitor. Why did he lay such stress upon the excellence -of the dry toast? And why because it was -dry? She raised a piece of it with her fingers and -examined it, lifted the second piece, when a gasp of -surprise escaped her. Above the third piece of toast, -folded neatly, was a thin strip of paper. She glanced -toward the door and window and then getting up from -the table and going to a spot where observation of -her actions was impossible, opened the slip of paper. -It was in Cyril’s hand.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Don’t be frightened [she read]. You are to be -questioned. Follow these instructions. I made copy -of message in Heathcote library night of dinner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -while waiting for you to get wraps. I hid it in right -sash of motor. Copy and original of message the -same. You and I are enemies. Therefore ignore -me. Rizzio acted for Scotland Yard. As to the rest -tell truth exactly and no harm can come to me. I -will find means later to communicate. Burn this -immediately.</p></div> - -<p>Her heart beating high, she read the paper through -twice to familiarize herself with the instructions which -she perfectly understood. Then she found a matchbox -on the candlestick, put the paper in the hearth -and burned it. After that she sat at the table and ate. -It was there that Captain von Winden found her some -moments later when he came to request her presence -in the room on the ground floor.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>During the time that Doris slept, in the living-room -downstairs General von Stromberg sat with John Rizzio. -A peaceful winter landscape looked in at the windows, -the sun slanted in a yellow rhomboid upon the -floor, a cheerful fire was burning upon the hearth and -General von Stromberg, his left hand tapping gently -upon the back of his right, was gravely listening to -John Rizzio’s story. All of the pieces of the little -game were upon the board. He was now about to move -them skillfully from one square to another until only -one piece remained, and that one piece, the victor in -all such games, was—himself.</p> - -<p>“And what was his manner,” went on von Stromberg, -“when you showed your credentials?”</p> - -<p>“He was surprised—very much surprised—and I -think alarmed.”</p> - -<p>“And what arguments did you use to make him give -the packet up?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I threatened him with serious consequences.”</p> - -<p>“Which meant <em>me</em>,” said von Stromberg grimly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. But he refused without other -grounds than his own judgment.”</p> - -<p>“And then——”</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, Fräulein Mather came in. She heard -something from behind the curtain—but she gave no -sign.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! She is clever?”</p> - -<p>“Exceptionally so. I have brought her here of my -own volition and she will speak if properly approached, -but I hope Excellenz will be pleased to make -the interview as easy for her as possible. If any harm -should come to her——”</p> - -<p>“It is not the practice of my department to do -hurt to women,” said the General quickly. Then he -laughed. “I suspect, Herr Rizzio, that you have a -tenderness in that quarter.”</p> - -<p>“It is true. I hope, therefore, that you will be -patient with her.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg waved his hand impatiently.</p> - -<p>“And what happened then?”</p> - -<p>“Hammersley and Miss Mather went out. I remained -in the smoking-room and then telephoned to -Maxwell to send his men at once. They came. I met -them outside the house before Hammersley emerged -and gave them my instructions to follow Hammersley’s -machine and get the papers.”</p> - -<p>The older man started forward, his long acquisitive -nose eagerly scenting a clue.</p> - -<p>“And how long was it after they left the smoking-room -for the machine?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio pulled at his mustache a moment thoughtfully.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I could not say exactly,” he said after a time. “A -matter of half an hour perhaps.”</p> - -<p>“Did you know what Herr Hammersley was doing -in the meanwhile?”</p> - -<p>“No. I could not say. I telephoned first and then -went out. The guests were all in the drawing-room.”</p> - -<p>“Did you go up to the library?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio showed surprise. “No, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure that Herr Hammersley was in the -drawing-room with the others when you went out?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. I am sure of it. There was no -reason for him to be anywhere else.”</p> - -<p>“There was no chance of his going upstairs to the -library for ten—fifteen minutes—without your seeing -him?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio straightened and pulled at his mustache. -“Excellenz, I think I understand the object of your -questions. It is not possible that Herr Hammersley -could have made a copy of the papers at Lady Heathcote’s -house.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg paused a moment, then he asked:</p> - -<p>“How long after you left the door of the house before -he came out with the lady?”</p> - -<p>“Scarcely more than ten minutes.”</p> - -<p>The General’s fingers tapped more rapidly.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” he growled, “I see.” And then, “Tell me how -the matter was arranged that Captain Byfield should -deliver those papers.”</p> - -<p>“Maxwell managed it through a cipher. The War -Office had grown suspicious and all the usual channels -were closed. Byfield was frightened and refused to -deliver further messages. So Maxwell hit upon the -scheme of the cigarette papers to be delivered to Hammersley. -I could not receive them from Byfield because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -of your instructions not to let my interests be -known to anyone in England but Maxwell—you -thought the time was not ripe for me to play my -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup</i>.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said von Stromberg dryly, “but the time is -ripe now and you are not there to play it.”</p> - -<p>“But this affair was of such importance——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” the general broke in quickly, “go on.”</p> - -<p>“It was the day of an anniversary always celebrated -for me by Lady Heathcote, whose house, as you know, -is one of the most exclusive in England and above -suspicion. I invited the guests and Maxwell communicated -with Hammersley, arranging the manner of the -exchange which was accomplished. My demand upon -Hammersley was made in accordance with your orders. -It was a test of his loyalty. He failed.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think he had an opportunity to glance at -the papers, I mean between the time he received them -and the time of your demand of him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He studied them for a moment behind the -curtains of an alcove in the drawing-room. I was -watching. I saw his shadow as he bent over to the -light of the lamp.”</p> - -<p>“By that you mean he had a hope that they might -be spurious?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz. When it was discovered that there -was a leak, false orders were issued to test the different -departments of the War Office.”</p> - -<p>“H—m. And then, Maxwell’s men followed him, and -when he was on the point of capture he turned the -papers over to the lady, who escaped through the -hedge?”</p> - -<p>“As I have said before, Excellenz, the lady is clever. -She read the papers, but her loyalty to Hammersley<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -kept her silent, though at that time she suspected that -he was a German agent.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” said von Stromberg, manifesting a sudden -activity with his fingers. “The lady is interested in -Herr Hammersley?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“More interested in him, perhaps, than she is in -you?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio bowed in silence.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Gut</i>,” said von Stromberg rising. “That perhaps -makes matters more amusing for us—perhaps a little -more amusing for Herr Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>He paced the floor with long strides while Rizzio -watched him until he stopped before the fire and spoke -again.</p> - -<p>“Herr Rizzio, you have told me about the events in -Scotland when, as you say, Hammersley, acting as an -Englishman, warned the lady against you as an agent -of Germany. What I would like very much to know is -why, when you were sure he was acting for England, -you did not have him killed at once.”</p> - -<p>“I tried, Excellenz, but he was too well prepared for -me. My men shot at him on the road and wounded -him slightly—but on the cliffs at Ben-a-Chielt he had -a confederate who killed one of my men. The other, -as I have related, fell over the cliffs.”</p> - -<p>“But you”—put in the officer harshly—“what were -<em>you</em> doing all the while?”</p> - -<p>“I shot at him and missed.”</p> - -<p>“That was unfortunate—from our point of view. It -is not the custom of agents of my department to miss—at -anything, Herr Rizzio. But since Hammersley -is here, the damage, if damage there is, can be repaired. -What did you do after that?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I had reason to suspect that Hammersley was the -cause of the arrest of Captain Byfield. I had also reason -to suspect that he had informed, or would inform, -the War Office as to my connection with Germany. -Accordingly I had made arrangements to have my boat -within easy reaching distance of Ben-a-Chielt. With -the help of two other men who had been set to watch -the roads in case of surprises I kept watch on Hammersley. -Miss Mather we lost in the darkness of the -moor. This was unfortunate, as I had planned to take -her, too. But we followed Hammersley on horses to -Rudha Mor to be sure that he would obey your summons -and fortune aided us, for Doris Mather had followed -him, too, and we managed to take her without -difficulty—and brought her aboard the yacht. Hammersley’s -departure for Germany, of course, relieved -me of all responsibility on his behalf.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg paused before the fireplace, his brows -puckering.</p> - -<p>“On the whole, Herr Rizzio, you have done well. -I shall not complain. But if your story is true, I should -like you to tell me two things. The first is, why -should Herr Hammersley return to Germany to face -certain death at my hands?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio shrugged his fine shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, I do not know. I did not think he -would come when I sent you my request to summon -him. The knowledge he possessed was dangerous to -me and I had made every possible plan to kill him at -Rudha Mor. Nothing that could have happened surprised -me more than when I saw him fly out in obedience -to your message. It has puzzled me. I do not -know why he came unless it was to learn something in -Germany and return to England.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<p>Von Stromberg gave a dry chuckle.</p> - -<p>“The supposition does not flatter his intelligence or -mine. Aside from the difficulties of his position at -present, if he were seeking information as to the plans -of the Empire, he would have about as much chance of -getting away from here alive as you would have, Herr -Rizzio, in the same circumstances.”</p> - -<p>The old man towered to his full height and brought -his huge fist down with a crash upon the table which -startled Rizzio, who fingered his mustache, his face -a shade paler.</p> - -<p>“I am glad, Excellenz,” he said with a laugh, “that -I am not in Hammersley’s shoes.”</p> - -<p>Disregarding Rizzio’s comment, the old man paced -the floor again, storming.</p> - -<p>“The other question that I would like to ask you is, -what has become of Herr Maxwell?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio started up, now in genuine concern.</p> - -<p>“Have you not heard from him, Excellenz?”</p> - -<p>“No,” roared the other. “Why haven’t I? You -should know.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know. I saw him the day I left London -for Scotland. He was fully informed of all that had -happened. Could it be that——”</p> - -<p>Rizzio paused with a deep frown.</p> - -<p>“Where is he? Why has he not reported? Could -anything have happened to him? What were you -thinking?”</p> - -<p>“That Hammersley perhaps—but that could hardly -be—since he always moved under cover——”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Du lieber Jesu!</i> Speak out! Will you?”</p> - -<p>“I thought that Hammersley might have been the -cause of his arrest.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you think that? Why?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Because it was Hammersley who told the War Office -of Byfield——”</p> - -<p>“What proof have you of that?”</p> - -<p>“No one knew of Byfield’s connection with us but -Hammersley, Maxwell and myself.”</p> - -<p>“Those were my orders. How do I know that they -were obeyed?”</p> - -<p>“One doesn’t disobey orders, Excellenz, with one’s -head in a noose.”</p> - -<p>“H—m. There are many necks in nooses at Windenberg. -And one of the nooses will be tightened.”</p> - -<p>He had stopped before Rizzio and was scowling at -him with eyes that shot malevolence. Rizzio knew -something of von Stromberg’s methods and was sure -that he was merely trying to intimidate him, to reduce -him to a consistency which would reveal hidden weaknesses -in texture; yet, knowing this, Rizzio felt most -uncomfortable. He twirled his mustache and looked -out of the window, but his glance came back to von -Stromberg’s eyes, which never wavered or changed in -intensity, as though under the influence of some strange -hypnotic attraction.</p> - -<p>“You know, of course,” the old man’s harsh voice -snapped at him, “what Herr Hammersley accuses you -of?”</p> - -<p>“I can imagine, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“He says that you have been acting for the English -Government.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio started up in alarm.</p> - -<p>“You do not for a moment believe——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t get excited. I believe nothing—which I do -not wish to believe. But he tells a very pretty story, -Herr Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>“He would,” said Rizzio easily. “I will do him the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -credit of saying that he is skillful. But a lie will discover -itself in the end.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly. I am glad you agree with me. What I -now propose to do is to set the lie in motion. The -easiest way to provoke a liar is to put him upon the -defensive. You and Hammersley shall debate the matter. -I shall be the judge of the debate. We shall see -what we shall see.”</p> - -<p>He strode to the table and was about to touch the -bell when Rizzio broke in.</p> - -<p>“One moment, Excellenz. I should like to know on -what he bases his accusation.”</p> - -<p>“Humph! Not weakening, Rizzio?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly, Excellenz,” the other smiled. “It will not -be difficult for me to verify my statements if Hammersley -will only talk.”</p> - -<p>“You need not fear. He will talk.”</p> - -<p>“What I wanted to know, Excellenz, was the nature -of the information received in the yellow packet. -Would you permit——?”</p> - -<p>“Not yet, Herr Rizzio, not yet. The contents of -the message will come in time. For the present there -is quite enough to occupy Herr Hammersley’s mind—and -yours.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio shrugged. “As you please. I would like to -know, however, before you summon him, whether his -accusation is based on my attempt upon his life.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg chuckled. “Is not that enough to -prejudice a man—if he were honest?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, if he were honest,” said Rizzio. “Did he have -any authority for his belief?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Herr Rizzio,” said the General, fixing Rizzio -with his stare. “He told me that Maxwell had learned -it from Byfield.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Byfield!” Rizzio started forward quickly. “Hammersley -is a fool. Have I not told Excellenz that -Byfield knew nothing whatever of my connection with -the affair?”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg stretched his long arms impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Herr Maxwell, unfortunately, is silent. Captain -Byfield is in a position where the only questions that -can be put to him will be those at the Gates of Heaven -by his Maker.”</p> - -<p>He gave the bell on the table a resounding blow and -grinned mischievously at Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“You say that Herr Hammersley is a fool. He -asserts that you are one. I shall now smoke a cigar -and decide for myself which of you is correct.”</p> - -<p>And, as the soldier entered, “Tell Herr Hammersley -that I wish to see him here at once.”</p> - -<p>“I can only say, Excellenz,” said Rizzio, when the -man went out, “that I am willing to abide by your -verdict.”</p> - -<p>“Even though it should be unfavorable to yourself?” -growled von Stromberg.</p> - -<p>“That, Excellenz, is quite impossible.”</p> - -<p>“I have known stranger things to happen. The -worst aspect of your case is that Herr Hammersley is -here. There was no need for him to come. You -yourself admit that. He had only to stay in England -to devote his talents to a more congenial occupation.” -Von Stromberg puffed on his cigar and leaned across -the table. “Can you tell me why Herr Hammersley -came to Germany? Answer me correctly, Rizzio, and -I will give you every masterpiece in Belgium.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio frowned into the fire.</p> - -<p>“I cannot say,” he replied. “I have admitted that -he has puzzled me. I can only think of one thing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -Hammersley is a type of man who under the guise of -inefficiency does all things well. He is a sportsman. -He would do such a thing for the love of adventure, -because the danger, the excitement, appealed to him—because -it was the ‘sporting thing.’”</p> - -<p>“A reason, Rizzio,” muttered von Stromberg, “but -not the real reason.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio started and a smile broke at the corners of -his lips.</p> - -<p>“Oh! You realize, then, that there is something else—something——?” -He paused.</p> - -<p>“I realize nothing,” growled the General. “Realization, -Rizzio, is the one banality of existence! Uncertainty -is the only thing worth while. When one is certain -of anything it ceases to be interesting. That is -why Herr Hammersley, whom you call a fool in one -breath and a genius in the next, excites my profound -attention. Come, I think you will agree with me that -he is worth it.”</p> - -<p>“I do not like Hammersley, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Natürlich!</i> But that need not prevent your interest -in him, even though your interest is largely in his -death.”</p> - -<p>The phrase was significant, delivered significantly, -and in spite of himself Rizzio felt the gaze of the General -piercing his veneer.</p> - -<p>“I could feel no happiness in such a misfortune,” -he said gravely, “notwithstanding my dislike of him.”</p> - -<p>A knock at the door interrupted further conversation -and, at a command from the General, Hammersley -entered.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a><br /> -<small>THE INQUISITION</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">If General von Stromberg had counted upon playing -a trump card in producing Rizzio at this -interview, Herr Hammersley’s demeanor must -have disappointed him. For he entered the room with -cheerful composure, noted Rizzio, stared at him in sudden -seriousness, and then turned to von Stromberg with -the air of a man briskly intent.</p> - -<p>“You wanted to see me, Excellenz?” he asked quietly.</p> - -<p>He had evinced a mild surprise at Rizzio’s presence, -but no discomposure. If anything, his manner now -had a kind of sober eagerness as at the imminence of -an issue in which a necessary if painful duty must be -performed.</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg from his armchair regarded -him through a cloud of tobacco smoke.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Herr Hammersley,” said von Stromberg. “As -you will observe, Herr Rizzio has just arrived from -England. He followed you almost immediately upon -his yacht. It is most fortunate that he is here, for -there are several matters which we can discuss in privacy -together.”</p> - -<p>“I am at your service, Excellenz,” said Hammersley. -“If there are any facts which I can add to my report -I shall be glad.”</p> - -<p>His idiom was Hanoverian. Rizzio, quite cool, faced -him, upright, with folded arms.</p> - -<p>“To begin with, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">meine Herren</i>, we will sit. To stand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -is the attitude of discomposure. One thinks more -calmly sitting down. You have my permission. So—Now -we will proceed. I will outline in the briefest -words the situation. Herr Hammersley, an agent of -the Secret Service Department of the Imperial Government, -is intrusted with the receipt and delivery of -certain secret messages. He receives them, but is requested -by Herr Rizzio, also an agent of the Secret -Service Department of the Imperial Government, on -authority of indubitable credentials, to relinquish the -message to Herr Rizzio. It is not necessary to state -the reasons of the Imperial Secret Service Department -in desiring the transfer of this message. It is sufficient -that Herr Hammersley refused to obey the orders. -He has given explanations which, on their face, -seem adequate. Upon the side of Herr Rizzio it may -be said that, failing in his object, he came to a certain -conclusion most unflattering to the loyalty of Herr -Hammersley. We will now proceed in orderly fashion -to hear the cause of Herr Hammersley’s refusal and -the subsequent acts of Herr Rizzio which have created -so great a misunderstanding. Herr Hammersley, -<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">bitte</i>, you will tell us the facts as you have related -them.”</p> - -<p>“I learned from Herr Maxwell that Herr Rizzio -was playing a double game. Captain Byfield had furnished -him with full proofs of it, one of which was a -letter he had seen from Herr Rizzio to a military officer -high in the councils of the War Office. This was -an additional reason, Excellenz, why Herr Maxwell -arranged with Captain Byfield that the cigarette papers -should be delivered to me.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio leaned quickly forward, his face dark with -passion. “Excellenz,” he began, “that could not possibly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -be true. The real reason for the delivery of the -message to Herr Hammersley Excellenz well knows. -And Herr Maxwell would hardly send men to follow -Herr Hammersley at my request if he disbelieved in my -loyalty.”</p> - -<p>“Quite so. He would not and did not,” said Hammersley. -“The men were not Herr Maxwell’s. They -were men of Scotland Yard. It is quite obvious by -the way they bungled matters.”</p> - -<p>The General smiled delightedly. It was the sort of -joke he liked. “That is one point in your favor, Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio shrugged.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz well knows,” he said, “why those men -were sent. They had instructions to get the papers -for Maxwell.”</p> - -<p>“That is strange,” said Hammersley. “If Maxwell -had asked me personally for the papers, I should have -given them to him. Maxwell would have known better -than to intrust those papers to a third person. It is -not likely that I should have given them up to any -man, even if Maxwell had sent him.”</p> - -<p>“It is unfortunate that Herr Maxwell is not here -to——”</p> - -<p>“One moment, Herr Rizzio,” broke in the General. -Then to Hammersley, “What was the nature of the -letter which you say was sent by Herr Rizzio to a -high official of the War Office?”</p> - -<p>“It was a statement in regard to the case of Carl -Hüber, who, as you know, was shot last week in the -Tower of London.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach!</i>” Von Stromberg frowned. “We are killing -our evidence too fast, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein herr</i>, a little too fast for -convenience. <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Bitte</i>, we will kill no more German agents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -in the Tower until they have had an opportunity to -testify.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley smiled.</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately, Excellenz, I have no means of restoring -him to life,” he said. “He was an excellent -man, and leaves, I believe, a wife and six children.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg tapped his fingers slowly.</p> - -<p>“We will go on, if you please, with the discussion of -the general facts. You claim that Herr Maxwell, distrusting -Rizzio, arranged that the papers should be -handed from Captain Byfield to you. I have told you -that Maxwell had orders from me to put you to this -test?”</p> - -<p>“Pardon, Excellenz. I did not know that at the -time. I only know that Herr Maxwell chose to disregard -your orders to him and Rizzio, instructing me -not to deliver the papers to Rizzio under any circumstances.”</p> - -<p>“When did Herr Maxwell make the discovery of -Herr Rizzio’s—er—treachery?”</p> - -<p>“It was the evening of Lady Heathcote’s dinner. -Captain Byfield had learned the truth that afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“One moment!” Rizzio rose, his face pale with anger. -“It is easy to manufacture evidence of this kind, -where both of the witnesses mentioned are beyond -reach. I will not even deny the truth of their charges. -They are too absurd. If I was acting for England, -will Herr Hammersley tell me why the agents of Scotland -Yard, whom he says I sent for, did not surround -the house at Ashwater Park and boldly demand the -papers from Miss Mather, in the name of the Government -and the law?”</p> - -<p>“The reasons are obvious,” replied Hammersley. “I -will give Herr Rizzio the credit for that much delicacy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -If his men had found the papers at Ashwater Park, -Fräulein Mather, whom Herr Rizzio esteems most -highly and who was quite innocent, would have eventually -been imprisoned by the Government as a spy. -At his orders the house was therefore secretly searched -by night, I am happy to say, unsuccessfully. Herr -Rizzio will surely not deny the kindness of his motives -upon that occasion?”</p> - -<p>“Excellenz will take that reply for what it is worth. -Scotland Yard has never permitted sentimental considerations -to interfere with the performance of its -duties.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley went on stolidly: “I cannot conceive -of any agents of Germany attempting to kill me. This -my pursuers did at Saltham Rocks and again in the -person of Rizzio himself on the cliffs at Beaufort Head—even, -Excellenz”—Hammersley leaned forward, smiling -blandly—“even after he knew that I had met Captain -Stammer and conveyed my acceptance of Excellenz’s -invitation to return to Germany.”</p> - -<p>“I was not sure that he would go.”</p> - -<p>“If not for any other reasons, Excellenz, the pursuit -of the agents of Scotland Yard would have been sufficient. -Fortunately, however, I had intended going as -the bearer of the Byfield message. And I carried it. -You can’t deny that.”</p> - -<p>“He brought a message, Excellenz,” put in Rizzio -quickly. “But what message? There were two messages. -One prepared by Captain Byfield—the other -prepared by Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>“I do not deny that. When I discovered that I was -likely to have an interesting evening I made a copy -of the papers in a package of Riz-la-Croix which I -had in my——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rizzio broke in quickly. “That copy was made not -at Lady Heathcote’s that night, but at the War Office -or elsewhere the following day. It was prepared for -the emergency of capture and, escaping that, for delivery -to General von Stromberg.”</p> - -<p>“General von Stromberg has been told about those -papers. I have told him where and when I made the -copy.”</p> - -<p>“And where was that?” asked Rizzio keenly.</p> - -<p>“In the library at Lady Heathcote’s while you were -telephoning to Scotland Yard.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio struggled for control, and then with dignity -to von Stromberg, “I was telephoning to Herr Maxwell, -Excellenz.” He turned to Hammersley with a -confident smile. “Assuming for the moment that what -you say about copying the papers is true, what did -you do with the copy?”</p> - -<p>“I took it out to the motor, where I slipped it down -the window sash,” Hammersley laughed. “Surely, Rizzio, -the tall man from Scotland Yard must have told -you that when I escaped I shouted to him that he had -not searched the motor.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg broke in suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Why did you say that?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged. “I had injured their motor, -and I knew that I should escape. The bravado of triumph, -Excellenz. I was rather happy, for, as a fact, -they had given me an uncomfortable evening.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio leaned across the table.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, it was to draw attention from the girl, -who had the original message and who had concealed -herself in a tree.”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg took a small object from his -pocket and weighed it lightly in the fingers of one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -hand. It was the package of Riz-la-Croix. As Hammersley -was about to speak, he held up the other hand -in demand for silence.</p> - -<p>“We are not getting very far, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">meine Herren</i>,” he -said. “Both of you tell excellent stories of your adventures -worthy of the best traditions of the Secret -Service Department. If, as Herr Rizzio alleges, Herr -Hammersley has substituted other papers for the original -ones burned by Miss Doris Mather, Herr Hammersley -will be shot. If, as Herr Hammersley alleges, -Herr Rizzio was in communication with Scotland Yard, -the officers of which attempted the life of Herr Hammersley -while he bore dispatches for me, Herr Rizzio -will be shot. It is a very delicate matter, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">meine Herren</i>, -one which will require much thought, since the -one man who could settle the question is in an English -prison.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley started a pace forward. “Oh, then he -<em>is</em> taken!”</p> - -<p>Rizzio glanced quickly at Hammersley.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, the same person who caused the arrest -of Captain Byfield gave Maxwell to the police.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg’s gaze followed Rizzio’s to Hammersley.</p> - -<p>“And you, Herr Hammersley. What do you suggest?”</p> - -<p>“If the report is true, Excellenz, I quite agree with -Herr Rizzio,” he said easily.</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg showed his teeth in a wolfish smile.</p> - -<p>“And each of you contends that it was the other, -<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley merely nodded, but Rizzio was by this -time in a state which made self-control an impossibility. -“Excellenz,” he cried hotly, “is it conceivable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -that I should have come to Germany if I had been -guilty of the crime of which this man accuses me? I -have served Germany against——”</p> - -<p>“You forget, Herr Rizzio,” said the General blandly, -“that Herr Hammersley has also come to Germany.”</p> - -<p>“And while he is here Germany is in danger. He is -a spy of England, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley only laughed.</p> - -<p>“If I had been a spy of England, Excellenz, I surely -had many chances to serve England’s cause. Why -should I have even met Captain Stammer at Beaufort -Cove? It would have been quite easy to have informed -the artillery officer at Innerwick and blown his destroyer -out of the water while she lay at anchor? -Herr Rizzio forgets that honesty is always provided -with proof. In reply to this accusation, I would ask -Herr Rizzio how he managed to pass through the cordon -of British destroyers which guard the coast?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio hesitated and von Stromberg spoke.</p> - -<p>“That is a fair question. Answer.”</p> - -<p>“I had English papers as well as German. I came -away before the War Office had time to act upon Herr -Hammersley’s information as to my services to Germany.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged. “I make no reply.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg frowned at the opposite wall, snapping -the papers of the package in his fingers impatiently.</p> - -<p>“An <em>impasse</em>! I suspected as much. We will now -resort to other means. The only possible solution of -this case, barring the unpleasant alternative of shooting -both of you gentlemen in the garden this afternoon -lies in the nature of the dispatches themselves and in -the production of a material witness.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> - -<p>He brought his broad palm down on the bell upon -the table and said to Captain von Winden, who answered -it:</p> - -<p>“You will bring Fräulein Doris Mather down to -this room at once.” As Captain von Winden went -out, the eyes of both men were turned to Hammersley. -He started in surprise, and leaned forward -toward von Stromberg, slowly turning with a frown to -Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“Doris—Miss Mather—here!” he muttered. “She -came—with—with Herr Rizzio?”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg nodded.</p> - -<p>“Herr Rizzio persuaded her to come with him.”</p> - -<p>“Persuaded! It is impossible.” He rose and took -a pace toward Rizzio. “What could have been his -object? I do not understand. It will be very cruel for -her to—to see me—since she knows that I am an enemy -of England, Excellenz. She it was who read the papers -and burned them. If Herr Rizzio supposes that -Fräulein Mather’s evidence will——” He paused, his -brow knitting in thought.</p> - -<p>“Her evidence is important,” said von Stromberg. -“Under the circumstances you should be glad to have -such an enemy to testify against you. Sit down, Herr -Hammersley. I regret that the necessities of the case -require this witness.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley sat and, frowning at the wall opposite, -folded his arms. “I am at your orders, Excellenz. I -need not remind you that she will tell the truth.”</p> - -<p>“That,” said von Stromberg, with a wide wave of -the hand, “is precisely what we are here for.”</p> - -<p>There was a silence, grim and amusing on von -Stromberg’s part, self-restrained on Rizzio’s. Hammersley -still sat staring at the wall, thoughtful and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -apparently in no great enjoyment of the prospect.</p> - -<p>When the door opened and Doris Mather entered -the three men rose. Her face was pale and lines of -care were at her eyes and lips, but there was no denying -the proud poise of her head, the firmness of her -mouth and the steady look from her eyes as her glance -passed Rizzio and Hammersley and sought the figure -of the man in uniform. She measured him with a look -that neglected nothing, her gaze finally meeting the -dark shadow under the gray thatch of brows where his -small eyes gleamed at her. The General bowed, clicked -his heels together and brought forward a chair, which -he indicated with a polite gesture.</p> - -<p>“I offer apologies, Fräulein, for the unfortunate -situation in which Destiny has placed you,” he said -in excellent English. “Will you be seated?”</p> - -<p>The girl sat and faced him, her gaze still fixed upon -his face. It was as though she meant to ignore the -presence of the other two men. General von Stromberg -stared at her for a moment in silence, and then, -finding that his frown was only met by a look of calm -inquiry, smiled at her instead.</p> - -<p>“You know, of course, Fräulein, the situation with -which you are confronted. Herr Rizzio has brought -you to Germany to shed what light you can upon the -mystery of these cigarette papers. Herr Hammersley -says that Herr Rizzio has been acting as an agent -of the English Government while professedly in the -service of Germany. Herr Rizzio says that Herr -Hammersley is an English spy. Your position is a -difficult one, but circumstances have woven you into -a piece of international politics. Your testimony is -of the utmost importance—to one—perhaps both of -these gentlemen.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I—I will do what I can to enlighten you,” she said -haltingly. “What do you wish to know?”</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg beamed on her.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach</i>, I am glad you take the sensible view of -things.” He waved the package of cigarette papers -in his fingers. “You have seen this object before?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think so. Will you let me look at it?”</p> - -<p>The General moved his chair closer and put the -papers in her fingers. She opened the papers and -finding the message, scanned it closely, reading the -writing with deliberateness and then looking up into -von Stromberg’s face.</p> - -<p>“You have seen this before?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“At Lady Heathcote’s house in Scotland.”</p> - -<p>“How did it come into your hands?”</p> - -<p>“I found it on the floor of Mr. Hammersley’s room.”</p> - -<p>“The night Herr Rizzio entered it, thinking it was -yours?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. That was the time.”</p> - -<p>“You are quite sure?”</p> - -<p>“Quite.”</p> - -<p>“How did you identify it?”</p> - -<p>“By certain peculiar characteristics of the handwriting, -with which I am familiar.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Hammersley’s, is it not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And how did this package of papers go out of -your possession?”</p> - -<p>“Mr.—Mr. Hammersley took them from me.”</p> - -<p>“By force?”</p> - -<p>She raised her chin proudly and looked at her questioner -and then lowered her eyes, replying quietly:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“There was another package of cigarette papers of -the same make as these?”</p> - -<p>“There was.”</p> - -<p>“You read them?”</p> - -<p>“I did.”</p> - -<p>“Was this before or after you found the second -package—these which I now have in my hand?”</p> - -<p>“Before.”</p> - -<p>“How long before?”</p> - -<p>“It was the night of Lady Heathcote’s dinner in -London—the night Mr. Hammersley took me home in -the machine.”</p> - -<p>“The night you were followed by men in another -machine?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“You escaped to Ashwater Park with the package -of papers which Herr Hammersley had given you and, -after hiding in a tree, in the privacy of your room -read these papers?”</p> - -<p>“I did.”</p> - -<p>“Were the contents of the papers you read at Ashwater -Park the same as those you hold in your hand?”</p> - -<p>“As nearly as I can remember, they were, exactly.”</p> - -<p>“Word for word?”</p> - -<p>“I cannot say that. There were certain names and -certain figures that I remember very clearly as being -exactly the same. I—I——” she hesitated. “There -were reasons why, in the state of mind that I was in, -what I saw remained impressed upon my memory.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley throughout had sat immovable. But -Rizzio, who had shown signs of anxiety, now interrupted.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, I beg——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - -<p>Von Stromberg silenced him with a gesture.</p> - -<p>“If you will be pleased to continue, Fräulein. Do -you remember the numerals?”</p> - -<p>“Some of them.”</p> - -<p>“And the towns and dates?”</p> - -<p>“Some of them.”</p> - -<p>“And are they, the ones that you remember, identical -in both packets?”</p> - -<p>“As far as I can remember.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg took the packet from her hands and -turned it over in his fingers.</p> - -<p>“There is nothing about this packet, no distinguishing -mark that would make it different from the other, -the one that was burned?”</p> - -<p>“None, except the handwriting.”</p> - -<p>“H-m.” General von Stromberg put the packet into -an inside pocket and buttoned his coat carefully.</p> - -<p>“So far—so good. You are an intelligent witness, -Fräulein.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you.” If the words of her questioner contained -an ulterior suggestion, the girl gave every indication -of being oblivious to it, listening with a grave -calmness to his next question.</p> - -<p>“When you escaped into the tree, were you in a -position to hear what went on in the road?”</p> - -<p>“I was.”</p> - -<p>“The men in the road searched Herr Hammersley?”</p> - -<p>“They did.”</p> - -<p>“And at last he escaped?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Do you remember hearing him shout anything as -his motor moved away?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“What was it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That they hadn’t searched the machine or words -to that effect.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg glanced at Rizzio, who was leaning -forward in his chair, eager to speak.</p> - -<p>“Well, Herr Rizzio?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“That was a diversion—intended to give Miss -Mather more time in which to escape. The second -package was not in the motor. At that time there was -no second package.”</p> - -<p>Doris Mather’s voice was raised just a trifle, but for -the moment it dominated.</p> - -<p>“There was. Mr. Hammersley put it into the window -sash, when he was in danger of capture.”</p> - -<p>“Then why didn’t he put them both there?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose because he wanted to be sure that one -of them would reach its destination.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg grunted. “I see. But why did you -help Mr. Hammersley to save those papers when you -knew that they were dangerous to England?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know what they were. I did what he asked -me to do because—because——”</p> - -<p>She faltered.</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg waved his hand.</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well. It does not matter. Who did you -think was pursuing Mr. Hammersley?”</p> - -<p>“Agents of Mr. Rizzio.”</p> - -<p>“Why did you think that?”</p> - -<p>“Because I heard part of what happened between -Mr. Rizzio and Mr. Hammersley in the smoking-room -at Lady Heathcote’s and I knew that Mr. Rizzio had -threatened Mr. Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>“Did you think the men who followed you in the -other machine were German agents?”</p> - -<p>Doris answered quickly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I was sure that they were men of Scotland -Yard.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure now?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. Subsequent events have proved it to me -conclusively.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! What events?”</p> - -<p>“The things that Mr. Rizzio did and what he wrote.”</p> - -<p>“He wrote—to you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio was swallowing uneasily, his face pale, his -hands trembling.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, I can explain at another time.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg regarded him coolly.</p> - -<p>“I will hear you at another time. For the present, -Fräulein Mather will speak. What did Mr. Rizzio -write to you that led you to think that Mr. Rizzio -was in communication with Scotland Yard?”</p> - -<p>“This letter, Excellenz.” She put her fingers into -her waist and handed a crumpled paper to the General. -Rizzio had risen again and would have interposed but -von Stromberg waved him aside.</p> - -<p>“You will all keep silence until questioned,” he said -abruptly, and then smoothing the letter upon his -knee, read it with great care and deliberateness. Rizzio -made an effort at composure but only succeeded in -bringing out a handkerchief and wiping his brows. -Hammersley watched von Stromberg intently. He was -not aware of the contents of this letter but the attitude -of the girl was distinctly reassuring. Von Stromberg’s -brow puckered disagreeably and his long nose neared -the paper while his eyes peered at the sheet as though -his fiery gaze would burn into it.</p> - -<p>He read the paper through twice and then brought -his hand down upon the table with a crash while his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -voice thundered at Rizzio, toward whom he extended -the note.</p> - -<p>“It is signed with your initials. Did you write -this?”</p> - -<p>Rizzio bent and examined the letter.</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, I did, but it was with the object of -bringing Miss Mather to——”</p> - -<p>“Silence! Perhaps you do not recall its terms. I -will refresh your memory.”</p> - -<p>“Excellenz, if I had not written that letter Miss -Mather would not have——”</p> - -<p>“Be quiet. Sit down. Please listen. ‘I am telling -you this,’” he read, “‘to warn you that my generosity -to Hammersley is not actuated by any love of a man -who has spoiled my dearest ambition, but by the continued -esteem with which I still regard yourself. I -do not love him; and my own wish, my duty, my own -honor, my loyalty to England all acclaim that he -should be delivered at once to those in authority. And -yet I have refrained—for you, Doris. But I have -learned that H—— is in communication with G—— -and that Crenshaw of Scotland Yard is on the alert. -I may not be able to save him.’”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg paused and laid the letter upon the -table. “I could read more,” he said, “but that is -enough. When did you receive this letter, Fräulein?”</p> - -<p>“The day after Mr. Hammersley was shot——”</p> - -<p>“And, acting upon it, you went to Ben-a-Chielt to -try to persuade him from the cause of Germany.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said clearly.</p> - -<p>“You failed?”</p> - -<p>“I did.”</p> - -<p>“H—m.” The General paused and turned to Rizzio.</p> - -<p>“What have you to say?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Merely, Excellenz, that I thought Miss Mather -knew too much for Germany’s good and I chose this -means of getting her to Ben-a-Chielt.”</p> - -<p>“Where she could witness a secret meeting between -two officers of my department? Bah! Herr Rizzio, -your story leaks like a sieve. It is full of holes.” He -touched the bell at his elbow and von Winden appeared. -“You will convey Herr Rizzio to the room on the -third floor. Put a guard over him.”</p> - -<p>Rizzio started to his feet, his face ghastly, while -beads of moisture stood out upon his forehead.</p> - -<p>“You will not give me a chance to explain?” he -protested huskily.</p> - -<p>“You will be given a hearing tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“But, Excellenz——”</p> - -<p>“Take him away!”</p> - -<p>As the door closed behind the two men, General von -Stromberg came forward and took Hammersley by -the hand.</p> - -<p>“I am glad, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein Herr</i>, that there is no longer any -suspicion upon you. I have always liked you, Herr -Hammersley, and you have done the Vaterland excellent -service. I am sorry that this investigation was -necessary, but in times like these I am not in a position -to take chances.”</p> - -<p>“I understand, Excellenz. But it hasn’t discommoded -me in the least.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg laughed.</p> - -<p>“I can readily believe it. You are always as cool -as a morning in May. As for Fräulein Mather,” and -he turned ceremoniously to Doris and bowed deeply, -“it has all been a mistake. If the efforts of a councilor -of the Empire in undoing the wrong done you, -by sending you with every comfort and dispatch to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -England, are any sign of regret, you shall be safely -on the way tomorrow. But I am sure that in your -heart you are glad to have had the opportunity to -clear Herr Hammersley of an unjust suspicion.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she murmured, turning away toward the window.</p> - -<p>“But you still wish that the part of Herr Hammersley -which is English had been the greater part of him -instead of the lesser, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>She bowed her head but did not reply.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it would be better if I left you two alone -together. There is doubtless much that you would -say which would be only interesting to yourselves.”</p> - -<p>And then he went out, closing the door behind him.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a><br /> -<small>THE GENERAL PLAYS TO WIN</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">When General von Stromberg went out of the -room Doris turned toward Cyril, her happiness -in her eyes where he could read it -if he wished. But instead of coming to her he made -a warning gesture and then walked slowly around -the room, peering out of the windows and listening at -the doors until satisfied that they were unobserved. -Then he beckoned her to a spot out of the line of -vision of the door into the adjoining room. She -obeyed it wonderingly while he caught her in his arms -and kissed her passionately.</p> - -<p>“Thank God,” he whispered, “you understood.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Cyril,” she gasped, “if anything had happened -to you——”</p> - -<p>“We must be careful,” he went on, whispering -hastily. “My success hangs by a hair. Tonight—the -thing that I came for will be within my reach. -I must have it.”</p> - -<p>“There will be danger?”</p> - -<p>“I hope not. But you must not trust his promises -to send you away. You must get away from here -tonight before eleven. I will help you. Before then -I must see you alone. It is not safe to talk here.”</p> - -<p>He pressed her hand hurriedly and moved slowly -across the room close to the wall and door, which he -examined as he passed.</p> - -<p>“But, Cyril——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - -<p>A warning finger stopped her.</p> - -<p>“There is no use in your trying to persuade me, old -girl,” he said, his voice raised to a tone which seemed -louder than necessary. “I am only doing my duty as -I see it. But whatever happens I can at least remember -that you told the truth.”</p> - -<p>What did he mean? She couldn’t understand. She -followed him with her gaze. The fingers of one hand -were tracing the flowers of the wallpaper upon one -side of the room, and as she looked he glanced out of -the window and then got quickly upon a chair and -peered into an aperture in the cornice.</p> - -<p>“I am not sorry for Rizzio,” he said again, dusting -off the chair and replacing it. “He only gets what he -deserved. What did he do to you? How did he find -you?”</p> - -<p>A glance at his face showed her that he expected her -to reply.</p> - -<p>“I was lost on the moor,” she faltered. “I followed -you to Rudha Mor and saw you leave in the Yellow -Dove. When I turned to go back, a cloth was thrown -over my head. They chloroformed me——”</p> - -<p>He muttered an imprecation. “And on the -yacht——”</p> - -<p>“I—I had nothing to complain of. He did everything -he could for my comfort.”</p> - -<p>She watched him again moving around the room. -At the chimney he paused and, reaching swiftly -upward, lifted the clock and then put it into its place -again, the expression in his face still strained and -anxious.</p> - -<p>“I am not sorry for him,” he said again. Suddenly -he came to her saying in such a low whisper that she -could hardly hear him,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m not satisfied. There’s something dangerous in -von Stromberg’s sudden kindness. <em>Act</em>, Doris. We -are overheard.” And then in louder tones, “If anything -had happened to you——”</p> - -<p>She glanced around her timidly, her initiative suddenly -at a loss.</p> - -<p>“N-nothing happened to me,” she repeated bewildered.</p> - -<p>“I would have made another death for him—a man’s -death at least.”</p> - -<p>“It is terrible,” she managed to say, “and I will -have been the cause of it.”</p> - -<p>He came closer and took her by the hand, speaking -distinctly.</p> - -<p>“And do you regret that it is Rizzio instead of -me?”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she stammered. Her accents of horror -were genuine, but it seemed more horrible that she -should be making a farce of her genuine emotions. -Yet Cyril’s eyes impelled her. “It is terrible. I can’t -believe——”</p> - -<p>“General von Stromberg is not a man to make idle -threats. I am glad that I am not in Rizzio’s shoes.”</p> - -<p>She saw him pause, his mouth open, gazing upward -at the lithograph of Emperor William. To Doris the -picture merely typified power, ambition, intolerance of -any ideals but those of military glory. But it was not -at the portrait that Cyril was looking. He was examining -the frame, which was swung a little to one side, -revealing a patch of unfaded wallpaper. He looked -down into the fireplace thoughtfully and while the girl -wondered what he was going to do next, he whirled -suddenly and moved quickly toward the door into the -hall, which he opened swiftly straight into the face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -of Captain Wentz, who managed to step back only in -time to avoid it.</p> - -<p>But the officer was equal to the occasion.</p> - -<p>“I was seeking General von Stromberg,” he said -coolly.</p> - -<p>“He isn’t here,” Doris heard Cyril say quietly. And -then, “I wanted a glass of water. Fräulein Mather -is feeling ill.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! I will have it brought at once.” As he disappeared -in the passage to the kitchen, Cyril closed -the door and came in three strides to the fireplace, -reached up and raised the picture from the wall, peering -under it, and touched the surface of the wallpaper -with the tips of his fingers. Then with great care he -put the picture back in its place and bent over Doris -close to her ear, whispering: “They suspect. Everything -we have said has been overheard. A microphone! -I knew it was here somewhere.”</p> - -<p>The pallor of her face when the man from the -kitchen brought the water was almost convincing proof -of the truth of Hammersley’s statement. She did look -ill, for terror of the situation that confronted them -had driven the blood back to her heart. A moment ago -the room had seemed so friendly, and now every object -in it was a menace. And above the mantel the Emperor -of Germany with his upturned mustaches glared -down at her austerely, eloquent of the relentless forces -that held them in their thrall. Behind her she heard -Cyril whispering with the man who had brought the -water and realized that it was the tall soldier with the -lame leg who had brought her toast and eggs upstairs.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Danke sehr</i>, Lindberg,” Cyril said aloud. “She is -tired from the journey.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Perhaps, Herr Hammersley, a little fresh air will -help. A stroll in the kitchen garden.”</p> - -<p>Doris got up in sudden relief as she understood.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said. “Perhaps I will feel better in the -air.”</p> - -<p>Cyril led the way to the door and together they went -out. They heard sounds of heavy footsteps in the -hallway above but did not pause, making their way -along the path which led around the house. Cyril did -not turn toward her, but she heard him speaking.</p> - -<p>“They will call us back. Do not be frightened. If -von Stromberg questions again, answer to the best of -your ability. I will find a means of reaching your -room tonight. In the meanwhile keep up your courage.”</p> - -<p>She did not reply for she heard steps behind her, -and turning, found Captain Wentz, who bowed, taking -off his cap.</p> - -<p>“General von Stromberg requests me to ask,” he said -in very good English, “if Miss Mather will not give -him the pleasure of joining him in a cup of chocolate.”</p> - -<p>“He is very kind,” she said slowly with a glance at -Cyril. “Of course—I shall be very glad.”</p> - -<p>The officer replaced his cap and, turning to Hammersley, -spoke in German.</p> - -<p>“His Excellenz also requests that Herr Hammersley -will remain within call.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley bowed.</p> - -<p>“Tell his Excellenz with my compliments that with -his permission I will smoke my pipe here in the kitchen -garden.”</p> - -<p>Doris followed the officer into the room they had just -left and von Stromberg joined her almost immediately.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach, gnädiges Fräulein</i>,” he said with his blandest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -manner, “you will forgive me for calling you back from -your contemplation of the beauties of this lovely afternoon, -but there are certain questions, merely trifling -ones, which have to do with the fate of Herr Rizzio -which I neglected to ask you. You will not begrudge -an old man the privilege of a few words over a cup -of chocolate?”</p> - -<p>She smiled at him bravely, as a woman can do, even -in a last extremity, and told him that she was flattered -by this mark of his condescension.</p> - -<p>A wave of the hand and Wentz disappeared, while -Lindberg, the lame man, entered with the chocolate. -The General had the tray put upon the table before -her and asked her to serve it, standing erect and -watching her with open admiration. Doris was frightened, -for she had already seen the power that this old -man possessed. But with an effort she found her composure -and made up her mind that if she was alarmed -von Stromberg at least should not be aware of it. The -safest defense against such a man was audacity.</p> - -<p>“You were feeling ill,” he said, suavely sympathetic. -“The long morning in the train and the strain of your -ordeal. It is but natural. A little cup of chocolate -and a biscuit should revive you wonderfully. <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nicht -wahr?</i>” His English, though excellent, had a slight -German accent and his tone the quality of a lullaby,</p> - -<p>“It is very good,” said Doris. “I have often heard -it said that nowhere in the world is chocolate so excellent -as in Germany.”</p> - -<p>“I trust that you may find it so. There are many -things beside chocolate that are excellent in Germany, -Fräulein Mather.”</p> - -<p>“I am sure that must be true,” she said politely, -touching the cup to her lips.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then why do you dislike us so much?” he asked -with a smile.</p> - -<p>“It is not your people that I dislike so much, -General von Stromberg. Many of the most charming -people I have ever known have been Germans. It is -not what you are, but what you want to be, that I dislike; -not your habits or your tastes, but your intolerance -of any civilization which happens to differ from -yours.”</p> - -<p>She paused, a little frightened at her temerity, but -von Stromberg still smiled.</p> - -<p>“Go on,” he chuckled, “you speak very prettily.”</p> - -<p>“I am an American, General von Stromberg, from -the United States, where people are accustomed to -speak what they feel, without fear of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">lèse majesté</i>. -If the President of the United States did something -that I didn’t like I would write him a letter.”</p> - -<p>“And would he answer it?” he purred.</p> - -<p>“If he had time, yes. If anyone wrote such a letter -to your Emperor, he would be boiled in oil.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg roared with delight. “Boiled in oil!” -he repeated.</p> - -<p>“Yes—or perhaps some more exquisite cruelty that -your ingenious people have devised,” she said coolly. -“To prosaic minds like mine, Excellenz, you Germans -are the wonders of the age. You are both godlike and -Saturnian; a nation of military fanatics, a nation of -silly sentimentalists; a nation trained to scientific brutality, -which shares the sorrows of the dying rose. -Which is it that you want us to think you, the god or -the satyr?”</p> - -<p>“We know that we are the god,” he said, showing his -teeth, “but we want you to think us the satyr.”</p> - -<p>“You have succeeded, Excellenz,” she replied calmly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -“It is very pleasant to be sitting here drinking chocolate -with a <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Geheimrath</i>—a councilor of the Empire—but -you’ll pardon me if I say that the peculiarly social -pleasure of the occasion is somewhat marred by the -fact that if the whim happened to strike you you could -have me strung up by the thumbs.”</p> - -<p>“You think that I am cruel? <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach</i>, no, Fräulein. -You are mistaken,” in his blandest tones. “I have a -daughter in East Prussia of just your age. For that -reason I would like to have you think of me a little -as the sentimentalist rather than as the—the brute—as -you have been pleased to suggest. I am not cruel -and I shall prove it to you.”</p> - -<p>“In America, Excellenz, we do not make war upon -women.”</p> - -<p>“Nor do I make war upon you,” he put in quickly. -“I did not bring you to Germany, Fräulein. Herr -Rizzio acted upon his own responsibility. Even yet, if -he is an English agent, I cannot understand his purpose -in bringing such an incriminating document.”</p> - -<p>He smiled as he spoke, but she felt the question and -its threat. For a moment the directness of his attack -bewildered her and so she sipped her chocolate to gain -a moment of time.</p> - -<p>“General von Stromberg,” she said at last, as the -idea came to her, “I am told that you have one of the -keenest intellects in the Empire of Germany. I feel -much like a child before you, who should see matters -much more clearly than I. There were two reasons -why he brought me, one of which bears upon our personal -relations, the other upon his relation to England. -I knew that he possessed your confidence, otherwise -he would not have been in possession of a document -which empowered Mr. Hammersley to give up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -secret message of Captain Byfield. I knew too much. -If I had told my friends in England what I knew, -his utility to England would have been gone.”</p> - -<p>“Why? It seems to me that having my confidence -would have made his utility to England the greater.”</p> - -<p>“He would have been suspected of double dealing, -would he not?”</p> - -<p>“As a friend of England you would have let him -be suspected?” he asked quietly. “Given evidence -against a man whom you knew to be acting in England’s -interests?”</p> - -<p>“There were other—other—interests,” she faltered, -“more important to me than England’s—Mr. Hammersley’s. -You have a daughter, Excellenz. Perhaps -you would try to think of me as you would think of her -in a similar situation. When I read those papers at -Ashwater Park I knew that the man to whom I was -promised and of whom I had always thought as an -Englishman was acting as a secret agent—a spy of -Germany. He was pursued by agents of the English -War Office. I knew that if his connection with Germany -were discovered he would be shot. I was frightened. I -did not know what to do. John Rizzio followed me to -Scotland and tried to get the papers. I refused to -give them to him. And then when—when Mr. Hammersley -came I burned them. There was nothing -left for me to do—for England—for him. If there -were no papers there could be no evidence against -him.”</p> - -<p>She paused to get her breath, aware that her companion -was listening intently, and fearfully afraid that -she was saying too much.</p> - -<p>“And then—?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“And then,” she went on more slowly, “I found the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -other papers. When I wouldn’t give them to him, -Mr. Hammersley took them away from me. We quarreled, -Excellenz, and I gave him up.”</p> - -<p>“And after that—”</p> - -<p>“After that came Mr. Rizzio’s note asking me to -go to Ben-a-Chielt and see the meeting between Cyr—between -Mr. Hammersley and your messenger in the -last hope that I could make Mr. Hammersley give -up his plans to deliver the message to you. As you -know I failed. It was there—after that—that Mr. -Rizzio, who had overheard our conversation, tried to -kill Mr. Hammersley, knowing that he had resolved -to deliver the message.” She got up and paced the -floor. “Oh, it is so clear, what Rizzio was, that I -wonder that it should be necessary for me to tell it to -you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I see. And the other—the personal reasons -you mentioned.”</p> - -<p>She hesitated. “It is difficult to speak of them—but -I will tell you. Mr. Rizzio has forfeited all right -to my loyalty. He offered to marry me. I refused -him. He told me he would never give me up. In -Scotland he threatened Cyril—Mr. Hammersley’s life. -I know now what he meant.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but in his letter to you he does not threaten. -He urges that he is doing what he can to save Hammersley!”</p> - -<p>“I did not believe him. I was right. Events have -proved it. He would have been glad to see Mr. Hammersley -out of the way.” She covered her face with -her hands and sank into her chair again. “Oh,” she -whispered, “it is horrible—horrible. And it is I who -must be the instrument of justice.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg waited for a moment, tapping one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -finger of his left hand very slowly upon the back of -his right.</p> - -<p>“Try to compose yourself, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">liebes Fräulein</i>,” he urged -calmly, and, as she looked up at him: “You say he -wanted to be rid of Herr Hammersley. Can you tell -me then, why his men did not shoot him when they had -him prisoner at Ashwater Park gates?”</p> - -<p>“I do not know. Perhaps they would have done so -if he hadn’t escaped.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg paused again, and then, gently:</p> - -<p>“You love Herr Hammersley a great deal, Fräulein?”</p> - -<p>She bent her gaze upon him appealingly.</p> - -<p>“Would I now be here, Excellenz?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg bent his head and then got up and -slowly paced the length of the room. When he returned -there was another note in his voice. It was -still quiet but the legato note had gone, and it was -ice-cold.</p> - -<p>“You do well to tell your story through the medium -of sentiment which you well understand, rather than -through the medium of logic, which you do not understand, -which no woman understands.”</p> - -<p>At his change of tone she glanced up. He was leering -at her unpleasantly.</p> - -<p>“I do not know what you mean,” she murmured.</p> - -<p>“You are very clever, Fräulein, but your story has -a great many holes in it—little holes which might grow -into big ones, if one were disposed to enlarge them. -There are several things which are not at all clear -to me. Of course it must be as apparent to you as it -is to me that if Herr Rizzio was an English agent, by -remaining in England he had nothing to fear from -you or anyone else. His object, too, in bringing you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -to Germany is clear. As you say, you knew too much, -not about his connection with the English War Office, -which, of course, would not matter in the least, but -about Herr Rizzio’s connection with <em>me</em>, which would -have mattered a great deal.”</p> - -<p>He tapped his long forefinger upon his breast significantly -and leaned forward ominously across the -table. He dominated, hypnotized her. She closed her -eyes, trembling violently.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that you do not believe? His letter, -Excellenz—surely you believe that to be genuine?”</p> - -<p>“Bait, Fräulein—that is all. Excellent bait. You -swallowed it. Herr Hammersley very cleverly prepared -himself against surprise. Only the fortunate -accident of your losing yourself upon the moor saved -Herr Rizzio from failure.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you are all wrong. You are willfully making -me suffer. I have told the truth.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg straightened and drew from his -pocket a military telegraph form which he smoothed -out gently with his long, bony fingers.</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately for Herr Hammersley I have just -received a message from another agent in London—in -whom I have implicit faith. You read German a -little. Would you care to see it?”</p> - -<p>He laid it upon the table before her eyes and she -looked, her eyes distended with terror of she knew -now what.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Hammersley caused arrest of Byfield. Has informed -on Rizzio and myself. Am in hiding in Kent. Will -reach Germany by usual methods. <span class="flright smcap">Maxwell.</span><br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p class="p1">Doris sat immovable, petrified with horror. Von -Stromberg’s voice crackled harshly at her ear.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well? And what have you to say?”</p> - -<p>“It is a lie!” she managed to stammer. “He lies—lies, -I tell you!”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach!</i> If I could believe you! Why should he lie? -Unlike the case of Rizzio, Herr Hammersley has not -robbed Herr Maxwell of a bride.”</p> - -<p>“There is a mistake——”</p> - -<p>“I fear not.”</p> - -<p>“But why should Mr. Hammersley have come? He -would have been safe in England——”</p> - -<p>“He himself says to the contrary——”</p> - -<p>She was breaking fast and he sought further to -involve her.</p> - -<p>“He did not have to come. Why should he have -come?” she asked wildly, rising to her feet and laying -her hands upon his arm. “Answer me that, Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>For reply he turned away from her abruptly and -walked the length of the room to an end window, -where he stood for a moment looking out.</p> - -<p>“Come, Fräulein, and I will show you something.”</p> - -<p>She approached him blindly and followed his gaze -around the corner of the building. Upon a tree -stump in the kitchen garden, looking out across the -fields toward the wooded hills sat Hammersley, calmly -smoking.</p> - -<p>“Half of his blood is English, half Prussian, Fräulein, -but it is the English in him that dominates. Is -there anything that is Prussian about him? Tell me. -From the crown of his head to the sole of his foot—his -pipe, his bent shoulders, his careless air—he is -English, all English. He knows that at this moment -I am weighing his fate in the balance and yet he -smokes his short wooden pipe. If he has Prussian -blood it is a pity, for Germany needs all the Prussian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -blood that flows red in the veins of men.” He paused -and then abruptly, “But the Prussian blood must be -sacrificed with the English——”</p> - -<p>She fell back from him, deathly white, groping for -a chair to support her.</p> - -<p>“You mean——” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“That I can take no chances. He will be shot tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“O God! He is loyal to Germany. I swear it.” -Her utterance was choked. Her breath came with -difficulty. The room darkened suddenly and she seemed -about to swoon. She dropped to her knees beside the -armchair, clinging to it, trying to speak, but no words -would come. She was aware of his hawk-like face bending -over her as though in the act of striking its prey -and she heard his voice at her ear.</p> - -<p>“There is one chance to save him.”</p> - -<p>She reached his hand and clung to it.</p> - -<p>“A chance—what—”</p> - -<p>“Tell me the truth,” he said sternly.</p> - -<p>“I—I have told you the truth. He is innocent.”</p> - -<p>He loosened her fingers and stood away.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Quatsch!</i>” he muttered, leaning forward. “The -truth, girl!”</p> - -<p>“I—I——”</p> - -<p>She fell against the chair and clung to it for support.</p> - -<p><a href="#image04">“The truth, and he becomes an honorable prisoner -of war. Silence, and he is shot tomorrow. Speak.”</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> -<a id="image04"> - <img src="images/image04.jpg" width="428" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_219">“The truth, and he becomes an honorable prisoner of war. -Silence, and he is shot tomorrow. Speak.”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“He is——” The words choked her. “He is——”</p> - -<p>“Bah!” he growled, moving toward the table. “You -have already convicted him!”</p> - -<p>She struggled to her feet and followed him. He was -about to touch the bell when she caught his arm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Wait!” she whispered. “What guarantee have I -that he will not be injured?”</p> - -<p>He shrugged and laughed. “I need give no guarantee -now, Fräulein. This is not a court of law! I am -the judge of what constitutes proof. You have testified.”</p> - -<p>He shook her off and sounded the bell, which was -immediately answered by Udo von Winden.</p> - -<p>“You will conduct Fräulein Mather to her room upstairs. -Lock the door and bring me the key. Then -tell Herr Hammersley that I am waiting to see him.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a><br /> -<small>LINDBERG</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">When Hammersley entered the house with von -Winden he was immediately aware that a -crisis had come in his affairs, for in the hall -leading to the living-room stood Captain Wentz and -two soldiers, and when he was shown into von Stromberg’s -presence, the Councilor stood with his back -to the hearth, his long legs wide apart, his hands behind -his back and the expression of his long, bony face -was not pleasant to see. He smiled and frowned at -the same time—a smile which possessed so few of the -ingredients of humor that the tangled brows even -seemed less ominous. Doris was nowhere to be seen. -Hammersley made no sign of his prescience of trouble. -He put his pipe in the pocket of his leather jacket, -strolled forward into the room and stood at attention. -“Search him!” snapped von Stromberg. And when von -Winden had finished, “Leave us,” he said to the officer, -“and keep within call, I shall need you presently.” -He waited until the door was closed and then turned -to Hammersley somberly.</p> - -<p>“Your jig is danced, Herr Hammersley, Fräulein -Mather has confessed.”</p> - -<p>“Confessed what, Excellenz?” questioned Hammersley -calmly.</p> - -<p>“She has told the truth.”</p> - -<p>“Of course, that was to be expected of her.”</p> - -<p>“Bah!” roared the General. “There’s no need of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -more of that. She told me that you were an English -spy.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley started forward, the only expression -on his face one of complete incredulity. “Fräulein -Mather told you that? Impossible!”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to say that you don’t believe me?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley managed a smile.</p> - -<p>“It would hardly be good ethics for me to say that. -I simply repeat that it is impossible.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” Von Stromberg sneered.</p> - -<p>“Because it is morally impossible for her to tell an -untruth.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach</i>, so. But it is <em>physically</em> impossible for her -to keep from <em>not</em> doing so.” He leaned forward, grinning -craftily. “In the small games of life, in the things -which amount to nothing, women lie with a careless -skill that is amazing, but in a game of life and death, -their little tricks are negligible. Pouf! Herr Hammersley, -did you expect to match mere falsehood and -such a tissue of flimsy evidence against a man of my -experience? It was a desperate game from the beginning—one -which could have had only one end. You -have been clever—very, very clever. In time, perhaps, -under proper guidance and with the necessary political -opinions, you could have succeeded in becoming a very -useful helper of the Universe, through the medium of -the Secret Service Department of the German Empire. -But such cleverness is superficial and quickly -burns out in the hotter fire of genius. I would like you -to know—”</p> - -<p>“One moment, Excellenz,” put in Hammersley -coolly. “Am I to understand from your attitude that -you believe I am false to the Vaterland?”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg laughed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You still insist on acting out the part?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley did not answer the question. Instead -he asked, “Will you be good enough to tell me upon -what new evidence you base your present position?”</p> - -<p>The Councilor strode to the table and thrust the -telegraphic message he had shown to the girl under -Hammersley’s nose.</p> - -<p>“This,” he growled. “I will read it to you. ‘Hammersley -caused arrest of Byfield. Has informed on -Rizzio and myself——’ It’s signed ‘Maxwell.’ What -do you think of my evidence?” He grinned, “Convincing, -<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley looked up into von Stromberg’s face -with a smile.</p> - -<p>“Not even in code, Excellenz? It is a pity you did -not write it in English. But under the circumstances -you can’t expect me to take any interest in such a -trick.”</p> - -<p>“Not you, Herr Hammersley,” he chuckled. “It is -not necessary that you should believe in it. In fact -there are reasons why you shouldn’t believe in it, the -most important reason being that Herr Maxwell is -dead.”</p> - -<p>“Dead!”</p> - -<p>“Obviously. You condemned him and he was put in -prison. If he is not dead it is through no fault of -yours.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley smiled. “You cannot get me to acquiesce -in such strange statements.”</p> - -<p>“I do not ask you to acquiesce. I could not expect -to catch Herr Hammersley by a trick. But Miss -Mather was less difficult.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s jaws set. “I understand. But do -you mean to say that I can be incriminated by a confession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -made under the stress of a terror artificially -produced?”</p> - -<p>“That is a clever turn of phrase, Herr Hammersley, -worthy of the high regard with which I hold your -abilities. In reply I can only say that in time of war -my deductions in all matters connected with my department -are final. You are an English spy, Herr -Hammersley, and you are quite aware of the penalty.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley raised his head and folded his arms. -“Quite,” he replied, “if you choose to take that action. -I can only say that the time will come when you will -regret it.”</p> - -<p>“I must take that chance, for there will be no trial.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged his shoulders and turned -aside. His face was white and the muscles at his jaws -worked for a moment, but otherwise he gave no sign -of emotion. General von Stromberg had gone back to -his favorite pose by the mantel and Hammersley again -heard his voice.</p> - -<p>“It seems a pity, Herr Hammersley, that after all -it should be you instead of Herr Rizzio who is the -culprit. You are a type of young man very much -to my liking, and the position of the young lady is -unpleasant in the extreme. She has served her purpose -here and I shall, of course, take immediate steps to -have her returned to her own people.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” said Hammersley dryly.</p> - -<p>“But the thing that has interested me in your case -from the first,” he continued with a return of his mastodonic -playfulness, “and indeed still continues to interest -me, is why you should choose to return to Germany -when you knew that you were under suspicion. -Surely you did not come here to pick cowslips in -March? Come now, I could have you shot this afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -if I chose. Tell me the truth and I will promise -to postpone the affair until tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley studied the pattern in the rug thoughtfully -for a moment, and at last he straightened and -shrugged again.</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose there is any use playing the game -further. Since I am to go, it doesn’t matter if I tell -you. I have planned for some time to be able to get -plans of the recent additions to the fortifications of -Strassburg.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach, so.</i> Strassburg! And what, may I ask, were -to be your means of procuring them?”</p> - -<p>“That, of course, since my utility has ceased, cannot -possibly be of interest to you.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg studied him narrowly for a long moment -and then wagged his head sagely. It was an -unnecessary suspicion that he had cherished. This had -been a case with interesting aspects, but after all it -was not much out of the usual way. An English spy -betrayed by the simplest of tricks upon the credulity -and affection of a woman. He thought that Hammersley -had been after bigger game. Plans, fortifications—the -same objects, the same methods. Von Stromberg -had tried to puzzle out in the mazes of his wonderful -brain the possible chance that this man could have -had of learning of the whereabouts of Herr Gottschalk’s -memoranda and of the momentous decision -which had been reached in the Wilhelmstrasse with -regard to them. He studied Hammersley closely, with -something approaching regret that the contest between -them could not have been waged at greater length and -for higher stakes. He felt a genuine human sorrow at -this moment over the impending fate of this handsome -young man who was only doing his duty for the fatuous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -English. It was too bad. But there was much -else to do. Tomorrow his mission in this part of the -Empire would be ended and the Wilhelmstrasse was -calling. He touched the bell upon the table and Captain -Wentz entered.</p> - -<p>“Herr Hammersley is to be taken to the room on -the third floor. Tonight you will see that he is securely -bound and a guard set over him, within the -room. You will place another guard outside below -his window. If he tries to escape, shoot him.”</p> - -<p>Wentz spoke to the man in the hall and Hammersley, -between them, was led to the foot of the steps, -and followed his captors to the upper story. He -knew, in view of the instructions that he had overheard, -that any effort to escape would be fruitless. -He sat on the edge of the bed submitting calmly while -his feet and hands were bound under the direction of -Captain Wentz; after which the officers went out, leaving -a man to guard him, and locked the door. Hammersley -rolled over on the bed and lay for a long while -staring at the wall. The day was fading into dusk. -Five o’clock, it might be, Hammersley guessed. Six -hours or less remained to him in which to act. Six -hours in which he must lie helpless while the one chance -of intercepting the messenger from Berlin came and -passed. He lay perfectly still as he had fallen, but -his spirit writhed in agony.</p> - -<p>Doris was in a room near him, likewise a prisoner, -aware of the fate in store for him and able to do -nothing but wait as he would wait until the shots were -fired below there in the garden, which would be the -end of all things for him. He found that he was thinking -little of himself. It was Doris and what she must -be suffering that occupied the moments of his thoughts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -which were not given to the remote chances of escape.</p> - -<p>His bonds were tightly drawn—a rope tied with German -thoroughness. He moved his hands behind him -and tried to gain a little room for his present ease. -If he was to be shot tomorrow morning it would have -seemed indeed a small charity to have permitted him to -pass his last night in some degree of comfort. Could -it be that, after all, von Stromberg suspected the real -object of his return? That hardly seemed possible; -for his informant in Berlin, a woman close to those in -high authority, had made every move with the utmost -discretion and his own relations to Lindberg could not -possibly be suspected.</p> - -<p>Lindberg! Hammersley turned and looked at his -guard who was standing motionless by the window, -gazing out at the fading landscape. Lindberg was his -one, his last desperate hope. Udo von Winden, his -cousin— It was too much to hope that Udo would be -of service to him. He had caught a glimpse of Udo’s -face in the hallway downstairs when von Stromberg’s -orders were given. He had gone pale and stared at -him in pity and horror as Hammersley had gone up -the stairs, but Hammersley knew that the ties of kinship, -the memories of their boyhood together, were -nothing beside the iron will and indomitable authority -of the great man who had condemned him. Udo would -suffer when Hammersley died, for there had been a -time when the two had been much to each other, but -he would do his duty, however painful, as a small unit -of the relentless machine which Hammersley had had -the temerity to oppose. What else could be expected?</p> - -<p>A word, a sign, the slightest aid to such a prisoner, -and he would be as guilty as his cousin. Hammersley -knew that he did Udo no injustice in supposing that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -any help from such a source was out of the question. -If Udo had been caught in England as Hammersley -was caught in Germany, Hammersley knew that he -could do nothing to save him.</p> - -<p>But Lindberg! Here the case was different. It -was Lindberg whose life Hammersley had saved three -years ago in this very forest, when the Forester had -stumbled and fallen in the path of an angry boar who -would have gored him to death, if Hammersley had not -shot the beast. Lindberg the Forester it was, who, in -his hours off duty, had been Hammersley’s chosen companion -in many a hunt up through the rocky gorges -of these very mountains, every stick and stone of which -he knew as he knew his own rugged face in the mirror. -It was Lindberg who had been so useful in keeping -him informed of the exact state of affairs at Blaufelden. -It was Lindberg who had learned of the microphone -that von Stromberg had installed and it was -Lindberg who had listened at the receiver upstairs in -von Stromberg’s room to the conversation when the -Councilor had told Captain Wentz the nature of the -documents from Berlin and the hour of their arrival.</p> - -<p>Already Lindberg had repaid a hundredfold the debt -of Hammersley’s service and it was quite possible, now -that Hammersley’s actual mission had been discovered, -that he would take to cover, his mind clear in the -thought that he had done all that could be expected -of him. But there was a warm affection between the -two, born of many a long day in the open and many a -night by the campfire where the old man had taught -him the Foresters’ secrets of the trees, the birds in -their branches and of the many four-legged things -that scurried beneath them. They had often talked, -too, of many other things, and Hammersley had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -learned that Lindberg’s politics were those that one -learns under the open sky—the eternal peace of Nature, -before which war and men, its armed instruments, -were a blasphemy.</p> - -<p>Perhaps Lindberg would find a way. But what way? -How? Udo von Winden, too, was aware of the woodcraft -fellowship, for often he had made their duet a -trio. Hammersley knew that Udo von Winden as yet -suspected nothing of the services Lindberg had rendered -him and he wondered whether in this pass the -ties of kinship would be strong enough to keep him -silent as to the possible capabilities of the old Forester -for mischief in Hammersley’s behalf.</p> - -<p>Hammersley hoped. He clung to the thought of -Lindberg’s fidelity and affection as a dying man clings -to the hope of Heaven. He tried to analyze the old -man’s capacities for sympathy and courage. To help -a man in his position seemed to require larger stores -of both of these qualities than human clay was molded -for. Lindberg did not fear death, he knew, but the -death he courted was the kind of death Hammersley -had saved him from, a good death in a fair game with -a noble enemy, not the kind of death that awaited -Hammersley, a cold, machine-made death against a -kitchen wall. And he must know as Hammersley knew -that this was what would follow.</p> - -<p>The dusk faded into dark and the soldier lit a candle. -Hammersley turned his head and examined him attentively. -His face was unfamiliar at Blaufelden, one of -the men probably sent down at von Stromberg’s orders -from the upper district to be useful in just this emergency. -Von Stromberg would make no mistakes, of -course. He never did make mistakes. He had enough -men about him to cope with the situation safely. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -would leave no opportunity for his plans to miscarry. -Any opportunity, should there be one, must be created. -Hammersley managed to wriggle into a sitting posture -on the bed and spoke to his captor in German.</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t mind my having a smoke, would -you?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The man looked at him, debating the matter.</p> - -<p>“Just get into the side pocket of my jacket and -fish out my pipe and tobacco, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein junger</i>. I need a -smoke badly. And so would you if you were going -to be shot in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach, wohl.</i> I see no harm in that, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein Herr</i>. -You cannot smoke yourself away.”</p> - -<p>He came over, brought out Hammersley’s short pipe, -filled it from the pouch and stuck it between his lips. -Then he got out a match and lighted it while Hammersley -puffed.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Hammersley contentedly. “You are a -good fellow. Tomorrow morning I will give you my -blessing.”</p> - -<p>The man paced stolidly up and down beside the bed.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry for you, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein Herr</i>. But it is life. It -is all decided for us beforehand. We are here a moment -and then we are gone.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley smiled.</p> - -<p>“A fatalist! Then perhaps you can tell me if there -is any chance of my escape.”</p> - -<p>He was stopped abruptly.</p> - -<p>“I can tell you that there is not,” he said severely.</p> - -<p>“I would have said as much. But it was a pardonable -curiosity, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Pardonable, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">ja wohl</i>,” the man replied, “but most -unseemly under the circumstances.”</p> - -<p>“You have a deep sense of your responsibilities.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ja.</i> I obey my orders, that is all. I do not care -what others do.”</p> - -<p>“Therefore you will shoot me tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” he shrugged. “I am but an instrument -of Providence.” He waved his hand. “But I talk too -much, and so do you. It is not seemly in a soldier -and a prisoner.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley laughed. “You have a fine sense of the -fitness of things.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ja.</i> It was so written.”</p> - -<p>He relapsed into silence and in spite of efforts on -Hammersley’s part refused to speak further. It was -only after Hammersley badgered him for his unsociability -that he spoke with some asperity.</p> - -<p>“I will trouble you to be quiet. When I am relieved, -my successor may let you speak and laugh as much -as you please. But it is unnatural in a man at the -point of death. It would be better if you were saying -your prayers.”</p> - -<p>“I am sure that you are right. But I still have a -few hours. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me the -hour at which you are to be relieved—the hour when -we are both of us to be relieved?”</p> - -<p>The man gazed at him uncomprehendingly.</p> - -<p>“After supper.” He finished indifferently, “Eight -o’clock, perhaps.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley was silent. Two hours or more to wait -before a change of guards, and then only a chance that -Lindberg would be able to do something. Even then -if he managed to get loose, there was left little more -than an hour in which to reach the road by which -the machine would come from Berlin, and even then -what should he do without Doris? His case was desperate. -Only a miracle it seemed could make a success<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -of what had been a pitiful failure; only an act of -Providence could save him from the discreditable end -that awaited him.</p> - -<p>He drew up his knees and studied the knots at his -ankles. His guardian was the one who had tied them.</p> - -<p>“You tie a good square knot, my friend. You were -once a sailor?”</p> - -<p>But nothing would induce the soldier to talk.</p> - -<p>As the supper hour approached, Hammersley could -hear the rattle of pans and dishes downstairs and noticed -the odor of coffee. They would not starve him, -of course. In a little while someone would come with -food. After a while, which seemed interminable, the -noise of the rattling dishes ceased and there was a -sound at the door into the hall as the key turned in -the lock and Captain Wentz entered. His sturdy back -had never seemed so ugly nor so welcome, for the -silence and the inaction were getting on Hammersley’s -nerves. The officer came over to the bed and gravely -examined the knots of the rope that bound the prisoner. -Then, satisfied with the results of his inspection, -he straightened and glanced around the room.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Gut</i>,” he muttered. And then to the soldier: “You -will go down and tell Lindberg to bring Herr Hammersley’s -supper. I will stay here in the meanwhile. -You will then relieve the man at the door of his Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>The man saluted and departed. They still trusted -Lindberg. Then Udo had suspected nothing, or if he -had suspected, had kept his thoughts to himself. Hammersley -lay back on the pillow preparing a stolid indifference -for Lindberg’s entrance. And when the meal -was brought, Wentz untied his hands and stood over -him with an automatic while he ate.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Your weapon makes a poor relish, Herr Hauptmann,” -said Hammersley with a laugh.</p> - -<p>“I greatly regret its necessity,” replied Wentz with -his machine-made politeness.</p> - -<p>Hammersley ventured nothing further, eating silently, -and with a surprising appetite, for good Lindberg’s -face in the background had given him new -courage. When the meal was done, he asked for his -pipe again and Wentz ordered the Forester to fill it. -Hammersley inhaled the smoke and exhaled a sigh.</p> - -<p>“So far as I am concerned, Herr Hauptmann,” he -said with a smile, “when this pipe is finished you may -kill me at once.”</p> - -<p>He extended his wrists behind him in silence while -Captain Wentz took half a dozen turns of the rope -and made it fast. Hammersley sat up in bed puffing -at his pipe and wondering whether some miracle might -not be induced that would kill Wentz. But he was -quickly disillusioned, for when Lindberg took the -dishes and moved toward the door, he heard Wentz’s -crisp orders:</p> - -<p>“You will send Max Senf to take the first night -watch upon the prisoner. He is awaiting my orders -in the guard room. <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Schnell.</i>”</p> - -<p>Without even a glance at the prisoner Lindberg -saluted and went out and Hammersley’s spirits fell. -Help from Lindberg was impossible. Von Stromberg -was taking every precaution. There was no way out -of it. Hammersley was doomed. But while Wentz -was in the room he kept a cheerful countenance, though -for the first time in his life that he could remember -his pipe was acrid. He saw the new guard enter and -heard the last orders of the officer.</p> - -<p>“You will watch until one o’clock when your relief<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -will be sent. The prisoner is to be allowed no privileges. -Under no circumstances are his hands to be -untied. If he wants water, you will give it to him -with your own hands. <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Verstehen sie?</i>”</p> - -<p>The man stood erect and saluted. “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zu befehl, Herr -Hauptmann</i>,” he said.</p> - -<p>Hammersley saw the door close and heard the key -turn in the lock while Senf came forward into the -room and stood by the foot of the bed. Hammersley -studied him closely: a tall, loosely jointed man in his -early thirties with the heavy brows and high cheekbones -of the East Prussian, the face of a Slav, almost, -with something of the thoughtful intensity of the South -German mystic. His eyes were large, his nose thin and -his face was bearded, but the lines of his mouth had -a sensitive curve, belied by the big bony hands and -broad shoulders. A sentimentalist, perhaps!</p> - -<p>Hammersley determined to try him, for a plan had -been forming in his mind. He had noticed with a -glance which had included everything in the room when -he entered, a Bible upon the mantelshelf, and in a -tone which had in it a solemn sense of the doom which -awaited him in the morning, he addressed his guardian -quietly:</p> - -<p>“Senf, you have a kind face. There is a small favor -that you may do me.”</p> - -<p>“If it does not conflict with my orders.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. Tomorrow morning I am to be shot. -All I ask is that you will allow me to read for a while -the Bible upon the chimneypiece.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach!</i> I see no harm in that.”</p> - -<p>He went over and got the book, opening the pages -and looking through them.</p> - -<p>“It is little enough for a dying man to ask,” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Danke</i>,” said Hammersley quietly, his face solemn -but his mind working rapidly. “It is but right to -make one’s peace with the world at a time like -this.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein Herr</i>,” said the man mournfully. -“It is not good for a man to die in the first flush of -youth.”</p> - -<p>“If it could only have been in the open, Senf, a -soldier’s death, but this—<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach, wohl</i>—we can only go -once. It doesn’t matter.” He gave a deep sigh and -asked his guardian to light his pipe again and open -the Book at the Psalms of David.</p> - -<p>“I cannot turn the pages, my friend. It is a pity. -But propped upon one elbow I can see quite well if -you will but put the candle here upon the bed.”</p> - -<p>The man did as requested and Hammersley thanked -him.</p> - -<p>“You are a kind fellow. It is bread upon the waters. -You will find it after many days.”</p> - -<p>“It is nothing. I would expect as much from another.”</p> - -<p>“Now, if you will permit, I would prefer the solitude -of my thoughts.”</p> - -<p>The soldier turned slowly away and Hammersley -bent his gaze upon the open page, but he did not read. -He was thinking, planning, watching the movements -of Max Senf. Eight o’clock was long past. It must -be nearly nine. But two hours remained before the -arrival of the messenger from Berlin. His guardian -paced slowly up and down the room between the door -and window, and Hammersley felt, if he did not see, his -deep bovine gaze fixed upon him from time to time. -Eight or ten times the man took the length of the room -and then with a deep sigh he sank into the chair at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -foot of the bed. Hammersley did not move his head, -which remained bent forward over the book, but from -the tail of his eye he noted that the tall footboard of -the old-fashioned bed partially concealed him. Propped -up as he was he could see the man’s head as far down as -the tip of his nose, but all of his head was in shadow. -Arguing from this, everything upon the bed below the -line of the flame of the candle was invisible to him. -But a quick glance showed Hammersley that the man -was not looking at him. His dark eyes were peering -straight before him at the opposite wall and his mind -was wrapped in some gloomy vision.</p> - -<p>The plan he had in mind required subtlety. He -marked the shadows upon the ceiling and moved up in -the bed so that his own shadow would be thrown behind -the line of sight of his guardian. Then he paused -again, his eyes fixed on the pages, waiting for Senf to -look at him again. He heard the man move in his -chair, which creaked as he settled more comfortably -into it. And when Hammersley looked again, only -his eyes were visible, their gaze fixed darkly ahead of -him.</p> - -<p>Hammersley now puffed a volume of smoke from his -pipe and slowly wriggled his left arm forward under -him, so that he could see the knot that tied his wrists. -It was a large knot, but vulnerable. He puffed more -smoke, meanwhile watching the top of the head of -Senf. As it did not move, he lay over half upon his -back, and, taking care not to disturb the book, slowly -advanced his arms behind him toward the blaze of the -candle. The knot of the rope caught and blazed, but -the candle sputtered, and he quickly withdrew his -hands, sending a volume of smoke from his pipe to neutralize -the odor. Senf sniffed the air curiously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Something is burning,” Hammersley heard him -mutter.</p> - -<p>“My pipe,” he explained carefully. “It is a vile tobacco. -But it will go out of the crack at the window.”</p> - -<p>“Will you not try mine, Herr Hammersley? Perhaps -it is better.”</p> - -<p>“No, thanks. Nothing much matters to a dead -man.”</p> - -<p>His guardian settled back in his chair, and Hammersley -repeated his maneuver more daringly, his own -pipe seething like a furnace.</p> - -<p>“You are a furious smoker, Herr Hammersley,” -said Senf again.</p> - -<p>“It is the way one smokes, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">mein Junger</i>, when one -smokes for the last time,” he replied.</p> - -<p>But the fellow got up, sniffing and walking around -the room.</p> - -<p>“It is a most curious tobacco,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>Hammersley’s wrists pained him where his bonds -had cut, but he kept his gaze upon the page of the -book, and Senf sat in his chair again. A strong pull -of his arms and Hammersley felt the tension relax. -His bonds came looser and after a few more efforts -his wrists were free. His heart was jumping and he -feared a stray glance of the watcher might see the -throbbing of the blood at his temples, but he clasped -his hands behind him and waited, slipping the sundered -rope beneath a fold of the blanket.</p> - -<p>Two—three minutes passed and Senf did not move. -The untying of his feet might prove a difficult matter, -but he made the venture, working slowly and patiently, -his gaze on Senf’s head. Then, as the knot yielded a -little to his prying fingers, his gaze quickly concentrated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -on it. In his efforts he must have made a -sound or a suspicious movement of the shoulders, for -when he looked up he saw the head of Max Senf projecting -above the tailboard of the bed, his large eyes -protruding with amazement. They gazed at each other -for a tense fraction of a second and then sprang upright. -Hammersley threw his feet out upon the floor -and leaped for the man, catching him around the waist -so that he could not draw a weapon. His legs were -useless and the only chance he had, a desperate one at -best, was to drag the man to the floor by sheer weight -and there perhaps throttle him. Senf beat with his -heavy fists on Hammersley’s head and shoulders, and -finally forced him backwards upon the floor, falling -with him, but Hammersley still clung with frantic -grip which the man could not shake off. But at last -he managed to get his fingers around Hammersley’s -throat and tried to force his head back.</p> - -<p>Hammersley gasped for breath, but still struggled -gamely, though he realized that he had played his last -card. Things got dark, and dimly he saw the door of -the room open and someone enter. Wentz, of course. -His game was up.</p> - -<p>Senf was panting heavily. “He burnt the rope,” -Hammersley heard him say. “Come and help me. He -has a grip of iron.”</p> - -<p>The figure from the door moved quickly around the -squirming figures, and Hammersley saw the reflection -of the candle on something bright. A knife. He -heard a blow, and the mass of struggling flesh above -him suddenly collapsed and smothered him with its -weight. With an effort he struggled free and -rolled aside, looking up into the grim face of Lindberg.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Sh—” the man whispered. “I had to do it. -There was no other way. I’ve been waiting outside.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley tried to speak, but his throat closed, -and while he struggled for his breath, he saw Lindberg -go to the door and stand, his ear to the keyhole, -listening. In a moment he came back.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ganz gut!</i> They have heard nothing.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure?” Hammersley managed to gasp, as -Lindberg cut the rope that bound his ankles.</p> - -<p>“Yes. He was so sure of himself that he did not -shout.”</p> - -<p>He helped the prisoner to his feet and they clasped -hands.</p> - -<p>“Good Lindberg! My friend! I had given up.”</p> - -<p>“I have waited until the beer was served. It is well. -And now——” He looked around the room quickly. -“You shall go.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley had a sudden thought.</p> - -<p>“Captain von Winden sent you?”</p> - -<p>“No. He knows nothing. But he has not spoken. -It is now after nine o’clock. By half past nine you -must go.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ja doch!</i> But you——!”</p> - -<p>“I shall remain.”</p> - -<p>“No, no; I will not consent to that.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have thought out a plan.”</p> - -<p>“But they will suspect. They will shoot you.”</p> - -<p>“No, they will not. Have I not told you that I -have thought out a plan?”</p> - -<p>“I will listen to it.”</p> - -<p>Lindberg meanwhile had been unstrapping his pistol -holster and put it on a chair.</p> - -<p>Hammersley glanced over his shoulder at the door. -“But they may come again,” he whispered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I think not. There is little time to lose. We will -have to take the chance.”</p> - -<p>“But if they return and find me free it will only -cause your death and do me no good.”</p> - -<p>“Herr Hammersley, you should know by this time -that I do not waste words. Have I not told you that -I have made a plan? Listen. This is my story for -Herr Hauptmann Wentz. I happen to be in the hallway -without, carrying a pitcher of water to the room -of Miss Mather—the pitcher is outside on the table—when -I hear the sounds of a commotion in this room. -Fearing that the prisoner has by some miracle gotten -free, I unlock the door with my pass-key and enter. -You have burned your bonds and killed Senf. You -spring on me and make me a prisoner——” He -paused.</p> - -<p>“And you——” Hammersley broke in. “You will be -left here? No, I won’t leave you—not to that fate. -I will not go unless you go with me. We will contrive -a way to get out of the country.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach, nein!</i> Will you not listen? Have I not told -you that I have thought of everything? I have communicated -with the lady. She is ready to go with -you. Her room has a dormer window around the corner -of the building, and there is a ledge along the roof. -You will go to her. The distance to the roof of the -kitchen is thirty feet. It will require four sheets, -yours and hers. They are new ones and if well twisted -will hold. If you get away safely you can reach the -cave in the Thorwald. No one will ever find you -there——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Lindberg—but you—what will you say to -them?”</p> - -<p>“It is no time to waste words. Even now the lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -is waiting for you. Come, you must get ready at -once.”</p> - -<p>He walked to the bed and quickly stripped off the -blankets, twisting the sheets and tying them together. -Then he took his pistol belt and fastened it around -Hammersley’s waist, slipping a handful of loose cartridges -into the side pocket of his leather jacket.</p> - -<p>Hammersley, bewildered by the devotion of his old -friend and tossed between alternatives of duty, stood -helplessly. At the moment when he needed resolution -most he was supine. But the minutes were passing. -The thought of his mission suddenly brought him to -life, and his face grew hard, his eyes brilliant with -purpose.</p> - -<p>“Come, Lindberg. You must go with me.”</p> - -<p>“No,” the man insisted. “My plan is the best.”</p> - -<p>“No. You must come with me.”</p> - -<p>“I have made other plans, Herr Hammersley,” he -whispered gently. “You will go alone. I will give you -a reason.” And before Hammersley could know what -he meant to do, he drew his hunting-knife from its -sheath in Hammersley’s belt and plunged it into his -own shoulder.</p> - -<p>Hammersley could scarcely restrain a cry, but Lindberg -smiled at him and plucking the weapon out, put -it in Hammersley’s outstretched hand.</p> - -<p>“It is nothing,” he said. “It will bleed a little. The -more it bleeds the better my case with Excellenz. -They will be here in three hours, if not before. Now -bind and gag me—quick. There is no time to lose.”</p> - -<p>He lay flat upon the floor and as in a dream Hammersley -obeyed him, tying his arms and legs. When -he had finished, Hammersley bent over the man and -touched his hand gently.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Good-by, old friend. Whatever happens I will -not forget. God bless you.”</p> - -<p>There was a bright, keen look in the small gray eyes -upturned to his.</p> - -<p>That was all Hammersley could see of the swathed -head, but it gave him a new idea of self-sacrifice.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a><br /> -<small>SUCCESS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Hammersley’s first act was to take off his -shoes and slip one into each pocket of his -jacket. They were soled with rubber, but -even that he feared would make a sound. Then he put -the box of matches in his pocket and blew out the candle, -overturning it on the floor. The shutters of the -window were closed, and if they were opened carefully -the man in the garden below might not notice any -change in the appearance of the window. Hammersley -buttoned his jacket and, carefully pushing back the -shutter, peered out. Fortunately the night had fallen -darkly, and overhead black clouds were lowering, and -while he hesitated, searching the paths below for the -figure of the guard, there was a patter of rain upon -the roof. The gods were propitious.</p> - -<p>At last he made out a dark bulk moving to and fro -along the garden path toward the toolhouse. Hammersley -watched, waiting until the man’s back was -turned, when he opened the shutter wider and threw -the rope of sheets out upon the ledge. Closing the -shutter again, he came toward the house. So far so -good, for the whiteness of the sheets would have been -plainly visible had the guard been looking. The next -stage of his escape was more difficult, and he let the -fellow go and come twice along his path as he timed his -new move. He tried the shutter carefully to see that -it did not creak and measured with his eye the distance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -to the living-room chimney, which he must reach, during -the twenty paces the soldier would take toward -the toolhouse. A wind was blowing in the treetops -and somewhere below him a young oak was rustling -its last year’s leaves. The shutter fortunately opened -in the direction in which he must go, so he sat upon -the window-sill, doubled up, and when the time came, -without looking again at the guard, moved quickly, -slipping out noiselessly, closing the shutter behind him -and, gathering up the sheet as he went, crept like a -cat on a wall along the narrow ledge. It creaked with -his weight, and some small object that his foot had -touched grated along the roof and fell to the ground -below. A tiny sound at best, but magnified in Hammersley’s -ears a hundred times. He had reached the -wide chimney and waited above it, listening for the -footsteps of the man below.</p> - -<p>There was no sound. The man had stopped walking. -Hammersley did not dare look out from his hiding-place, -but he knew that in that moment his fate -was hanging in a balance. Just then a heavier gust -of wind than usual dislodged a broken branch from a -tree nearby, which fell to the ground. Still the man -below did not move and Hammersley blessed his wisdom -in closing the shutter, for he knew that the guard -must be peering upward, searching for a sign of anything -unusual in its appearance.</p> - -<p>Hammersley held his breath, straining his ears for -the sound that would tell him that he had not failed. -In a while, which seemed interminable, it began again, -the slow crunch of gravel under a heavy foot—ceased, -and began again, as though uncertainly, so he waited -until the sounds were regular as before, then advancing -his head cautiously, he waited for the proper time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -and keeping the chimney between himself and the garden, -ran straight up the roof to the gable and -crouched quickly upon the other side. He was more -fortunate this time for the roof gave forth no sound.</p> - -<p>Once beyond the protection of the gables he could -for the moment disregard the danger of the guard, for -his orders had been to watch but one window, and -Hammersley knew enough of the German character to -be sure that the soldier below would not leave that -side of the house. As he slid carefully down the roof -upon the other side, he saw that there were two dormers, -and for a moment could not think which of them -let into the room in which Doris was imprisoned. He -reached the ledge and paused. The shutters of both -windows were closed. Lindberg had told him this, -but he swore mildly to himself because he hadn’t paid -closer attention to the Forester’s instructions, for while -one of the rooms was Doris’s, the other he knew was -to be occupied by John Rizzio. It was while he hesitated -that he heard a whisper at his left, and crawling -along the ledge, in a moment had reached the window.</p> - -<p>“Is it you, Cyril?” he heard.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he whispered. “Let me in.”</p> - -<p>Lindberg had opened the shutter in the afternoon, -but it was still stubborn, and when Cyril put his -strength to Doris’s, it creaked abominably. It was not -really a loud noise, but to the sensitive ears of the -fugitives it seemed as if discovery must be inevitable. -At last they managed to open it wide enough to admit -Cyril’s long legs and his body speedily followed. Inside -the room they stood, their hands clasped, fearful -of discovery, listening for sounds without or within -which would tell them of the approach of the dreaded -Wentz. Nothing but the sighing of the wind in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -treetops and the patter of the rain. As hope returned, -Hammersley questioned quickly:</p> - -<p>“You are ready to go?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she replied eagerly.</p> - -<p>“The sheets?”</p> - -<p>“Here. I have prepared.”</p> - -<p>It was dark and he could not see, but he followed -the sheet to its end with his hand and found that it -was fastened to the bedpost. How she had managed -to move the heavy bed across the room he did not -know, and it was unnecessary to question, for there it -was. He reassured himself as to the knot that she had -made and then fastened his own sheets to the other -end.</p> - -<p>“Do you think you can manage it alone? It will -not hold us both.”</p> - -<p>“Try me,” she whispered bravely.</p> - -<p>“The rope will reach almost to the kitchen roof.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is just below. I could see the edge of it -through the shutter this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>He caught her in his arms and their lips met.</p> - -<p>“I will go first. Then when the tension relaxes, you -follow.”</p> - -<p>She pressed his hand as he slid his feet out of the -window and paused crouching on the ledge listening. -Then he waved his hand and slowly went down. He -knew that the angle of the building quite hid him from -the garden path, and he slid down the improvised rope -as quickly as he could until his feet dangled in space. -He looked below him, but in the darkness the distance -was uncertain. Had Lindberg miscalculated? Or had -Doris used too much of the sheet at the upper end? -He let himself down until his hands groped the end -of the sheet while he felt for a landing with his toes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -He touched nothing, and still swayed and spun in the -air like an apple on a string at All Hallowe’en, a fine -mark for an automatic from any of the windows that -stared blankly at him from the second story. There -was nothing for it but to drop, stretching his toes -down to meet the impact. Fortunately it was not far, -but he lost his balance and toppled sideways, catching -himself upon an arm and knee. Here again the wind -saved him from discovery, but he drew his weapon -and kept a look on the corner of the garden, meanwhile -watching for Doris.</p> - -<p>She came at once, slowly but fearlessly, and in a -moment he had her safely in his arms, drawing her -back near the bulk of the building to crouch and wait -and listen again. They did not dare to speak, but -Hammersley’s blood was surging madly with hope. -If they had not been discovered now, the chances were -that some time would elapse, enough at least to enable -the fugitives to get a good start of their pursuers. -But the dangling sheet warned Hammersley -that they must move quickly. He peered over the -edge of the roof. A light was burning in the kitchen, -but whether the room was occupied or not, he could -not tell. He did not dare risk a sprained ankle by -jumping, but found that by lowering himself he could -easily reach the fuel box that stood near the kitchen -door. In a moment they were on the ground and -moving along in the shelter of the hedge toward the -hangar.</p> - -<p>Hammersley exulted. It was something to have -brought Doris away, but it was something more to -have circumvented von Stromberg. The bundled figure -of Lindberg, lying up there bleeding in the dark, shot -a pain through his heart, but in action, moving toward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -the goal of his hopes, even Lindberg was put behind -him. He had no fear for the wound in Lindberg’s -shoulder. The old man was as tough as a pine knot -and would survive the loss of blood. It was Lindberg’s -ordeal with von Stromberg that bothered him.</p> - -<p>When they reached the shelter of the woods the tension -relaxed.</p> - -<p>“We’re going to get off, Doris,” he said joyously. -“I know every stick of these woods, and they can -never find us. But I’m afraid the strain has been too -much for you. How are you feeling?”</p> - -<p>“Never better,” she said bravely. “Which way -now?”</p> - -<p>Hammersley had paused a moment to slip on his -shoes, and as he got to his feet,</p> - -<p>“Follow me,” he said. “If I go too fast for you, -let me know.”</p> - -<p>He cut into the woods and presently struck a path -which led to the left, and for a while they followed -this rapidly. Thanks to a fine physique and a vigorous -life out-of-doors, the girl was in good condition, -and though breathing hard upon the slopes, made no -murmur. Hammersley knew that he had little time to -spare, and Doris followed blindly, asking no questions. -She was aware from what Cyril had said in the afternoon -that his objective in coming to Germany was now -within reach, and she could only judge of its importance -to England by the desperate chances he had -taken. When it was time that she should know he -would tell her. She judged that Cyril knew that she -had been tricked into betraying him, and she made -up her mind that, whatever happened now, she would -stay with him until the end. She owed him that.</p> - -<p>After a while, when they had been moving for perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -twenty minutes, they reached an opening in the -trees where she could see gray patches of sky through -the branches overhead, and her feet emerging from -the dry leaves and moss felt a firmer contact.</p> - -<p>“The Schöndorf road,” he said. “We can follow -it side by side. Are you tired?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>They went on more rapidly, while Hammersley explained:</p> - -<p>“The documents I came to Germany for are to be -brought along this road tonight in an automobile. -The hour they are due to reach Blaufelden is eleven, -and if I know anything of the infallibility of the German -secret messenger, they will be here on time. It -is now after ten. I have an hour or less to make my -preparations.”</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Get them. First, I’m going to take you to a spot -where you will be as safe as if you were at home in -Ashwater Park.”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said firmly, “I’m going with you.”</p> - -<p>“But that’s impossible. I don’t know what may -happen. My plans are of the vaguest——”</p> - -<p>“I will share them. No, you sha’n’t refuse me. I -will follow you. I can help. I must. I would die -in those roads alone. Don’t you understand?”</p> - -<p>“But if I fail and they take you, you will be as -guilty as I. It’s an act of war, Doris.”</p> - -<p>“Then all the more reason why I should be committed -to it. They made war on me.”</p> - -<p>“But there will be danger. I can’t let you take -the risk.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know how you are going to stop me,” she -said defiantly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> - -<p>He paused, then stopped and caught her by the -elbows, peering down into her eyes. Then he laughed.</p> - -<p>“Mated!” he cried. “This is the greatest moment -of my life.”</p> - -<p>“And mine,” her voice answered him.</p> - -<p>Her lips met his in a quick caress, like those the -wives of the Spartans gave when they sent their men -to battle.</p> - -<p>He caught her hand in his and they moved forward -more quickly. Along this path Death was riding -toward them, but they strode eagerly to meet it, to -defy it, to defeat it. Cyril planned rapidly, casting -anxious glances along the road behind them. Every -foot they traveled took them further from pursuers, -if pursuers there were. Every foot they traveled took -them nearer the advancing messenger. So that the -farther they went the longer would be the while before -they were overtaken, but the shorter the time for preparation -to stop the automobile. Murder was not in -Hammersley’s line. They passed many places, difficult -spots in the road where the machine must almost -stop and go into low gear to climb declivities, places -where projecting rocks jutted rough faces up to the -very ruts of the road. It would not be difficult to -kill with an automatic at a distance of two paces, but -Hammersley could not play the game that way. He -was a spy, if the laws of war called him so, but he -would not, even in this extremity, use the spy’s weapons. -If the other man fought, it would be different. -The desperate nature of the undertaking was beginning -to come to him. Two men, perhaps three or even -four! And yet he must win. He must. Slowly but -surely a plan was forming and he made up his mind -to put it into practice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Not tired yet?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No. I could go on forever.”</p> - -<p>“Then listen. We are nearing the Thorwald. It -is just beyond here, less than half a mile away.”</p> - -<p>“The Thorwald?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a favorite place of mine, known only to Lindberg -and Udo, a cave high up in the rocks, safe as a -church, unless Udo happens to hunt for us there.”</p> - -<p>“And will he?”</p> - -<p>“I hope not. At the foot of the crags this road -runs. We must get there first. Can you run?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll try.”</p> - -<p>He gave her his hand again, and they settled into -a jog trot. She was breathing fast in a moment, but -she was game and did not falter, though her lungs -seemed to be bursting. But as they neared the spot, -Cyril slowed down to a walk again.</p> - -<p>“At the foot of the glen there’s a dry bed of a -stream full of rocks. There used to be a bridge here, -but it was washed away. It’s an awkward spot, even -for a good motor. I’m going to make it worse.”</p> - -<p>He left her, dashing on ahead, while she followed, -and when she reached the stream she saw him dragging -one of the bridge timbers across the road. She -wanted to help, but he told her to watch, until he got -another and then another timber into place. And in -another moment it was evident that the barricade was -formidable enough to deter any machine from crossing. -And there was no way to go around, for upon -one side rose the crags and upon the other the gully -fell away into a dark pit filled with rocks and tangled -branches.</p> - -<p>There was nothing for it now but to wait. And -yet it seemed a desperate thing to do. Weary and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -blown as Doris was, it would have seemed better to -have gone on and on—anything to put distance between -Cyril and the death that surely awaited them -back there. It seemed impossible that so long a time -as this could have elapsed before the tell-tale rope -of sheets should have been discovered. Already she -was sure that Wentz and his men must be on the -way in a machine or on horses, perhaps which would -cover the distance they had traveled in less than a -quarter of the time. She thought that she heard the -sound of a machine in the distance and the voices of -men. She pleaded with him to go on, but he only -smiled at her.</p> - -<p>“You must do what I say, Doris,” he said, and then -paused, listening. “They’re coming,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>She <em>had</em> heard the sound of a machine. “From -which direction?” she gasped.</p> - -<p>“There,” and he pointed across the gully.</p> - -<p>“They’ll be here in a moment. Listen to me! Walk -quickly to your right, across the road to that large -stone. Stop!” She obeyed wonderingly. “Now cross -the road again, using those rocks as stepping stones.” -She did it, bewildered, pausing on a ledge of rocks -that formed a part of the crag. “Now follow the line -of the rocks into the bushes. Fifty feet from the -road, hidden among the shrubbery, you’ll find a cleft -in the rocks. Climb it and you’ll come out here,” and -he pointed upward just above the road. “Wait for -me there. I’ll come in a moment.”</p> - -<p>And as she hesitated, he caught her by the elbows -and shoved her along the ledge backwards. “Go! Do -you hear? I’ll have no refusal.”</p> - -<p>There was no denying the accent of command in his -voice or the quick flash of his eye. Never until von<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -Stromberg had badgered her today had a man spoken -to her in this tone before. But she loved him for it, -rejoiced in his strength—the primitive instinct of -woman to obey.</p> - -<p>When she had gone, Hammersley quickly crossed -the stream and took a position behind a thick bush, -listening to the exhaust of the approaching machine, -but listening and looking, too, in the opposite direction -for sounds of his pursuers. A searchlight made fantastic -shapes among the leaves and long shadows suddenly -shot out along the road.</p> - -<p>Hammersley had drawn his automatic from his -pocket and was fingering it coolly. He put his fingers -over his eyes, so that the light would not mar -his familiarity with the darkness. He did not know -how many men opposed him and did not seem to care. -The main thing now was to keep his eye undimmed and -his hand steady. The machine came, slowed down and -stopped while a guttural exclamation came from the -driver. The searchlight focused downward into the -rocks of the gully. Screening his eyes from its light -with a hand, Hammersley peered out at the occupants -of the car. There were two men—better than three, -but not so good as one. The man at the wheel rose -and got down just beside him, moving forward to remove -the obstacles.</p> - -<p>Hammersley wasted no time. He leveled his automatic -at the broad back of the driver and his voice -rang sharply in German:</p> - -<p>“I have come here for the dispatches intended for -Herr General von Stromberg. You will give them to -me at once.”</p> - -<p>The man who was just bending over toward the timber -straightened quickly and turned, reaching for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -holster, but the man in the seat of the car, who wore -a military cap, was quicker, for there was a report, -and a bullet sang close to Hammersley’s ear.</p> - -<p>A stream of fire came from Hammersley’s automatic; -three shots in quick succession, and the man in -the car pitched forward in his seat and slid to the -floor. And by the time the other man had drawn his -pistol, Hammersley had leaped behind a tree and came -out of some bushes beyond. The chauffeur fired, but -not in Hammersley’s direction. The continuous glare -of the light in their eyes had made their vision in the -darkness uncertain.</p> - -<p>“Do you surrender?” shouted Hammersley.</p> - -<p>The German’s reply was to fire at him again and -miss. He still stood in the reflection of the headlight, -a bulky silhouette, which made too fair a mark, while -Hammersley stood in the shadows of the bushes. -Hammersley pitied him.</p> - -<p>“Surrender!” he repeated.</p> - -<p>The man was not a coward and rushed blindly -toward the voice, shooting again, too close for comfort.</p> - -<p>“Well, then——” Hammersley said, and fired again.</p> - -<p>The man stumbled to his knees and then fell prone, -his fingers clutching among the leaves. The whole incident -had taken less than a minute, and a deathly -silence seemed to fall, following the reverberations of -the shots. Hammersley stood tensely, listening and -peering along the road toward Blaufelden. There was -a glow of light at a distance and he could now hear -the sound of another machine. Von Stromberg had -learned of his escape and with a perfect intuition was -coming here directly and fast. The sound of the shots -had been heard. There was no time to lose. Hammersley<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -bent over the man on the ground and searched -his pockets rapidly. Gloves, matches, a spark plug, -tobacco, but no papers. The chauffeur, of course. -By main strength he lifted the dead weight of the -man in the car and carried him down into the glare of -the searchlight. It was a dangerous thing to do, for -the lights of the machine from Blaufelden were already -swinging through the treetrunks. But he worked -quickly and skillfully, tearing open the officer’s gray -overcoat and searching his pockets. In the inside -pocket of his uniform he found them, a bulky package, -and other papers. He read the superscription -quickly, “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sein Excellenz General Graf von Stromberg</i>.” -Then sprang aside out of the glare of the lights at -the very moment when the other machine came swinging -rapidly around the turn in the road.</p> - -<p>“The papers are safe?” roared a voice which Hammersley -recognized.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ja</i>,” Hammersley replied in a rough tone. “A -man tried to stop me and I shot him.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ganz gut!</i>”</p> - -<p>“He is here,” shouted Hammersley again.</p> - -<p>All the while he had been moving out of the glare -of the searchlights, and as the men from the other car -tumbled out and came forward, he turned into the -darkness, and abandoning all caution, took to his heels -and ran at top speed in the opposite direction.</p> - -<p>Behind him he heard shouts as his trick was discovered, -but he knew that in the matter of speed he had -nothing to fear afoot from any German at Windenberg. -The thing that bothered him now was a way to -hide the marks of his footsteps, for in places the -mud was soft and he knew that in the morning -light they would follow him; so he picked his way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -carefully, running at top speed for a mile at least, to -lead the pursuit away from the Thorwald and then -at the banks of a small stream paused a moment and -listened. He had eluded them. Then without hesitation, -though puffing fearfully from his exertions, he -stepped down into the cold waters of the stream and -waded up it, avoiding the ledges and making sure -that he left no mark behind him. As he climbed -higher up the mountain, he could see in the distance -the glow of the lights of the machines and when he -reached a mossy bank which would not betray him, -he clambered out of the water and turned, doubling -like a fox, upon his trail, turning back in the general -direction from which he had come.</p> - -<p>Doris worried him. He could imagine her crouching -there two hundred feet in the air just above the two -machines, half dead with fear of capture and terror -for him. Had she seen what had happened and understood -it? Would she have the kind of silent endurance -to crouch there and wait? He hurried on -into the maze of rocks and deep woods, finding at last a -deer trail that he knew. There were but two means -of ingress to the cave of the Thorwald, one by the -secret path in the bushes up the rocks which Doris -had taken, the other from the upper side which he -was now rapidly approaching.</p> - -<p>He ran along the deer trail, reloading his automatic -as he went, his eyes peering ahead for familiar -landmarks, cutting in at last to the left at a -great rock around which the deer trail led. He now -proceeded with great caution. Far below him he could -see the reflections of the lights of the two cars and -heard the voices of men. He went down a way toward -the wall of rocks, clambering over huge bowlders, hauling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -himself here and there by the aid of tree limbs, -reaching at last the dry bed of the old stream which -down in the road had been of such assistance to him.</p> - -<p>Now the wall of rock rose sheer before him. He -stole cautiously along its face, feeling with his hands -and peering upward. In a moment he found what he -was looking for, a small projecting ledge which he -mounted, and followed to his right for a way, then -mounting again by easy stages to a fissure wider than -his body which he entered and followed quickly. It -led downward it seemed into the bowels of the crag, -but came out suddenly into an open space, a kind of -amphitheater, with a ridge of rock upon one side, and -upon the other what appeared to be a solid wall. He -crossed this space quickly and peered over.</p> - -<p>Below him the crag jutted out over the road and -upon it somewhere was Doris. He strained his gaze -downward but could not see her. What if they had -found her footsteps and followed? No, that was -hardly possible, for the ridge of rock began immediately -at the road, and thanks to his precautions, she -would leave no footprints.</p> - -<p>Slowly he descended, choosing his footing with quick -deliberation, for the slightest sound, the dislodging -of a twig or a sliver of crumbled stone and the crag of -the Thorwald would become in a moment a hornet’s -nest. Fortunately the back of the rock screened him -from the road, and unless von Stromberg had sent men -into the woods to left and right, there was no chance -of discovery. At last he reached the level and a dark -shadow rose at his very feet and silently clasped his -hand. He took her in his arms for a moment in devout -thankfulness. If the true moment of their mating -had been back there in the road while danger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -threatened them before and behind, this place of security -was the beginning of its consummation. He did -not speak and only motioned her to sit while he -crouched beside her, waiting.</p> - -<p>Below in the road he heard the rasping voice of -His Excellenz, speaking in no gentle tones to the -wounded chauffeur of the messenger’s machine, asking -question after question which were answered feebly -enough. After a while the men who had followed -Hammersley returned and made their reports—the -dull boom of the voice of Wentz and the harsh crackle -of von Stromberg’s in rage and mortification.</p> - -<p>“He got away, Excellenz,” said Wentz. “For a -moment only I saw him, and followed fast as I could, -but my legs are too short.”</p> - -<p>“Bah! You are an imbecile, Herr Hauptmann. -And the other men, are not their legs longer?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but Herr Hammersley has the legs of a deer. -They are following, but it is like hunting for a grain -of barley in a coal scuttle. He may have taken to -the woods anywhere.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ja</i>—but the Fräulein. She could not have run as -fast as he!”</p> - -<p>“It is my opinion,” said Wentz with some temerity, -“that they had a <em>rendezvous</em> somewhere beyond. He -has known these mountains since his boyhood.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Esel!</i> But she hasn’t, and how should she find it -in the dark?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, the matter being so important, he would -have deserted her.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Quatsch!</i> Find me the girl and I will find you -Hammersley.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley felt Doris’s clasp tighten on his own.</p> - -<p>“She cannot have gotten far away. Search for her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">schafskopf</i>. Search the woods and rocks until morning. -Take the other machine and follow his footsteps -until you see them no more. Then follow his trail -in the woods. Take the two <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Försters</i> with you. I will -go back to Blaufelden to send for more men and question -the guards who permitted his escape. Go!”</p> - -<p>The fugitives sat silently listening to the sounds -below them, heard the orders to put the wounded -man and the dead messenger into the machine and -presently the commotion of departure as the machines -were backed away from the gully, turned, in available -spots, and then departed in opposite directions, General -von Stromberg’s at full speed, the other slowly, -while Captain Wentz walked on before, his shoulders -bent, trying to follow the signs of Hammersley’s rubber -soles in the road. But it had begun to rain steadily -again and Hammersley was thankful, for it would -not be long before all marks of his footsteps would be -erased.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a><br /> -<small>THE CAVE ON THE THORWALD</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">“Safe?” he heard her whisper.</p> - -<p>“Yes, for the present.”</p> - -<p>“You have what you came for?”</p> - -<p>“I think so.”</p> - -<p>“And what shall we do now?”</p> - -<p>“Sleep. You’re dead beat. Come.”</p> - -<p>He rose and helped her to her feet, then after another -pause, turned toward the wall of rocks behind -them.</p> - -<p>“Do you think you can make it? It’s a difficult -climb.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I’ve that much left in me. You lead the -way and I’ll follow.” Her teeth were chattering.</p> - -<p>As he touched her sleeve he found it soaked with -moisture.</p> - -<p>“Poor child. You’re nearly frozen.” He had not -been conscious of the occasional spatter of rain, -for his leather jacket had kept him dry. “But -I’ll have you warm and snug before you can say -knife.”</p> - -<p>And when she questioned, “A fire——” he replied, -“Isn’t that what one uses to get warm with?”</p> - -<p>“But here—tonight——?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t bother. You’ll see.”</p> - -<p>They were climbing up the face of the slippery -rocks, Hammersley pausing from time to time to let -her rest, pulling her from above when he reached the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -ledges, and at last they came out into the amphitheater -of bowlders from which he had descended.</p> - -<p>She was almost too weary for comment and followed -blindly as he led her to the wall of the rock where he -seemed to disappear in its very face. She followed -him inside a dark opening and when they were well -within he relinquished her hand and struck a match. -A brief glimpse she had of a small chamber in the cliff -not twenty feet square when the match went out. He -struck another and shading it with his hand went forward. -She saw him find what he was looking for and in -a moment a candle, after faintly sputtering for a moment, -sent forth a steady glow of light.</p> - -<p>“Sit here on this stool. I’ll have you right in a -jiffy.”</p> - -<p>She obeyed him and looked around her. At one side -was a bed of pine needles, at another a small table and -in the middle of the rocky floor the gray embers of -what had been a fire.</p> - -<p>“A bit roughish, but not so bad?”</p> - -<p>She nodded while he busied himself in building the -fire. There were dry leaves, twigs and logs in the -corner, and soon a blaze was leaping cheerfully upward. -And while she wondered at the signs of occupancy -he answered her thought.</p> - -<p>“It’s Lindberg’s. He comes here often. It was -here that he and I always slept when we went on hunting -trips. You see there’s a natural chimney overhead -in the rocks where the bally smoke goes out. -They might observe the smoke by day, but at night -we’re quite safe. I’ve been all around the place when -the fire was goin’ and there isn’t a sign of it outside.”</p> - -<p>He helped her put her coat off and made her comfortable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -close to the fire, after which he quickly took -the package of papers out of his pocket and examined -them. The single papers were military orders of no -importance to one Lieutenant Orstmann, obviously the -dead messenger. Hammersley put them aside, breaking -the seal of the heavy envelope and examining its -contents carefully. First a letter of instructions to -His Excellency von Stromberg, signed in the bold hand -of the Emperor of Germany himself. He showed her -the signature and explained its contents and all -thought of weariness went from her mind.</p> - -<p>“It is—it’s what you came for?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he replied, smiling grimly. “I’ve got it.”</p> - -<p>“Is it—it isn’t so important that you can’t tell -me?” she asked timidly.</p> - -<p>He laughed, put his arm around her and held her -for a moment tenderly. She had endured where a man -might have flinched, and yet at this moment she was -all woman—timid, weary unto death, but still curious. -It was the master impulse.</p> - -<p>“No,” he smiled. “You’ve jolly well earned the right -to know. I’ll tell you.”</p> - -<p>He was so big, so strong, so certain of himself that -she wondered how, for a moment even, she could have -thought him other than he was. With a sudden impulse -of pride and tenderness, she rose, put her arms -around his neck and bending his head down to hers -kissed him upon the lips. He caught her to him and -held her in his arms.</p> - -<p>“O Cyril,” she murmured, “that I could ever have -failed in my belief in you, that I could ever have -thought that you were false! Why didn’t you tell me -the truth? I would have kept your secret.”</p> - -<p>“It was impossible, dear. It was too big a thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -and I was sworn to silence. But since you found -out——”</p> - -<p>“Did you think me curious—” she asked naïvely, -“because I read the cigarette papers?”</p> - -<p>“Curious!” he laughed. “Well rather! The mistake -I made was in tellin’ you <em>not</em> to read them. If -I——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t laugh at me,” she whispered. “I can’t stand -that. The only retribution for what I did this afternoon -is a blow. If you struck me, Cyril, I should not -care.”</p> - -<p>“But I won’t, you know, old girl. But I’m going to -kiss you again if you don’t mind.”</p> - -<p>And he did, while a shadow darkened her eyes. “It -seems terrible to be happy, even in our moment of -security, with the shadow of death hanging so closely -over us. I know you had to kill him, Cyril, but——” -She paused.</p> - -<p>“It was either that or he would have killed <em>me</em>. As -it was, it was too jolly close a thing for comfort. I -gave the other man his chance, but he wouldn’t take it. -Lucky he didn’t, for I might have missed the papers.”</p> - -<p>She clung to him more closely.</p> - -<p>“And if you had been killed?” she whispered. “I -saw it all. At first I thought you had fallen. O -Cyril, the agony of it! And then you came out from -behind the tree and I knew that you were unharmed. -I had seen a man die, as I had, there upon the rocks -at Ben-a-Chielt, but when the other one came at you -I wanted you to kill him. I <em>wanted</em> it. I prayed that -you would. It was murder—in my heart. I can’t -understand how I have changed. And I’ve always -thought death such a fearsome thing!”</p> - -<p>She hid her face in his shoulder and clung to him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -trembling. She had passed through danger valiantly, -carelessly even, but now that for the moment danger -had passed, woman-like, she yielded to the reaction. -He kissed her gently.</p> - -<p>“Sh—child. Don’t let it work on you. No bally -use. We’re safe now.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—safe for the present. That ought to be -enough for me. But if anything had happened to -you—!” She shuddered.</p> - -<p>“But it didn’t——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m thankful,” she whispered. “Thankful for -that—and for you—the trouble I’ve passed through—the -pain of my thoughts of you—I’m thankful for -those too, because without them I never should have -known you—the real <em>you</em>, Cyril. I sometimes think -that life deals too easily with most of us to bring out -the best that’s in us. I never would have known you -in England, Cyril, doing the things you always did.”</p> - -<p>He smiled at her.</p> - -<p>“I’m the same chap, though. Can’t tell what a fellow -will do when he has to.”</p> - -<p>“But you didn’t have to. You might have gone to -France and sat in a trench. Instead of that you did -what was harder—let them distrust you—hold you in -contempt—keeping silent and cheerful, while you were -doing such splendid things for England.” She paused -while she caressed him and said in a proud whisper, -“The Honorable Cyril!”</p> - -<p>“Honorable!” he smiled. “You’d hardly get von -Stromberg to think that.”</p> - -<p>“That terrible old man!” she went on clinging to -him. “I can see his vulture face now. He would have -shot you—tomorrow!”</p> - -<p>“But we fooled him—what? Poor Lindberg!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> - -<p>She questioned him and he told her of the devotion -of his old friend.</p> - -<p>“And what will von Stromberg do to Lindberg?” -she asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Nothin’ perhaps, -unless Udo tells.” He paused and looked into the fire. -“Wish I knew about Udo,” he said thoughtfully. -“We were very good pals last year.”</p> - -<p>“But he wouldn’t see you shot!”</p> - -<p>“He couldn’t do anythin’. I am betrayin’ his country.”</p> - -<p>“But not <em>your</em> country, Cyril,” she said.</p> - -<p>“No, thank God. Not mine. I love Germany—the -Germany of my mother—and the men like Lindberg. -But the Germany of von Stromberg—that’s not Germany -to me.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think we will get away?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said quickly.</p> - -<p>She read the anxiety in his voice and knew that he -was thinking of her, and in that moment a new idea of -her duty came to her.</p> - -<p>“You mean,” she said quickly, “that you could get -away if it wasn’t for me. O Cyril, I know. Don’t try -to deceive me. You could disguise yourself and get -away to the Swiss border. It would not be difficult -for you. I am a weight around your neck which may -destroy you.”</p> - -<p>“Hush, child.”</p> - -<p>“No. I am not too stupid to see that. You ought -to be going now.” She clung to his arms and looked -up into his face as her duty came more clearly to her, -while her voice trembled with earnestness. “I want -you to go, Cyril. Your life is valuable to England. -They are on a false scent down there. You could get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -away in the darkness and by morning you can be miles -away. I’m not afraid. Tomorrow I can go and give -myself up. I am only a girl—an American. They -will not dare to harm me. Don’t smile. I am in deadly -earnest. You must go, Cyril—now—now——”</p> - -<p>But he only patted her gently.</p> - -<p>“You think that I am a child,” she went on, “that -I cannot be trusted to get along alone. Haven’t I -proved it to you that I am not afraid? Look at me, -Cyril. I am only a little tired now but tomorrow -I will go to von Stromberg and say, ‘Here I am—now -what can you do to me?’ He may threaten and bluster -and rage, but that will not frighten me—when you are -safe. What can he reply? What <em>could</em> he do? My -nation is not at war with his. He would not <em>dare</em>! O -Cyril, say that you’ll go—say that you’ll go——”</p> - -<p>She looked up into his face and saw that its expression -had not changed. He was still smiling at her -softly while she felt the touch of his fingers gently -petting her.</p> - -<p>“Oh—you won’t go—you won’t!” she cried, and then -without further warning burst into a passion of tears.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Doris, for God’s sake,” he whispered. “Don’t -break now. I need all your courage and your strength. -You’ve been so brave—so strong. Keep up your -spirits, there’s a dear. We’ll pull through, don’t you -worry.”</p> - -<p>“They’ll take you—if you stay here.”</p> - -<p>“No. They won’t find us. I’m not afraid of that, -and there are water and biscuits here. We’ll take -things easy for a while and then slip off. Do you -think I could go and leave you in the lurch? Pretty -sort of a Johnny I’d be to do a thing like that! Not -for twenty Englands, Doris,” he whispered, kissing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -her tenderly. “Not for twenty Englands, I wouldn’t.” -His touch soothed her and she grew more quiet.</p> - -<p>“Of—of course you w-wouldn’t,” she murmured. -“But I w-wish you would.”</p> - -<p>Her hands met around his neck and he raised her -chin and kissed her on the mouth. It was a kiss of -plighted troth, of tenderness, faith and the exalted -passion that comes with tears.</p> - -<p>“Mated?” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes,” she murmured faintly.</p> - -<p>They did not move for a long moment when Doris -slowly disengaged her arms from around his neck -and moved slightly away. Her hair had fallen and -hung in golden disorder about her shoulders. She put -up her arm, trying to catch the escaping pins, and -then she smiled at him, dimpling adorably.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said gently. “You must get to bed. -Your coat is nearly dry, but I’ll cover you with my -jacket. You must sleep, too. No shammin’, you know. -Can’t tell what may happen tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll try,” she murmured obediently, while he led her -to the couch of boughs and made her lie on it. But -as he knelt beside her, covering her with his jacket, -she caught his hands and would not relinquish them. -He raised hers to his lips and kissed them again and -again: small, muscular hands they were, but now very -brown and dirty. “Are you comfortable? Sorry I -haven’t a tub.”</p> - -<p>She was silent a moment and then straightened and -asked him:</p> - -<p>“You promised to tell me about the papers. Won’t -you?”</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“Not now. It must be nearly morning.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, now. I’m not tired now. I will sleep afterwards. -I like to hear your voice, Cyril. Perhaps it -will soothe me to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully—and she -nodded.</p> - -<p>He saw that she was still nervous and wakeful and -sank beside her couch, taking her hand in his.</p> - -<p>“It is really quite interestin’,” he began slowly. -“Three years ago, at the invitation of the Emperor of -Germany, when Europe was at peace and there was no -cloud upon the horizon bigger than a chap’s hand, -there met in a shootin’ lodge near Schöndorf, not ten -miles from here, six men. It was a secret conference, -arranged by the Emperor of Germany through His -Excellency Graf von Stromberg. The six men were -His Highness Prince von Waldheim, at one time Germany’s -ambassador to France; Admiral von Frankenhausen, -head and front of the Imperial German Navy; -General von Sandersdorf, the brains of the German -General Staff; His Excellency Moritz von Komarom, -minister of war of the Austrian Empire; Viscount -Melborne, English Secretary of State for Foreign -Affairs; and Harlow-Gorden, of the British Admiralty.”</p> - -<p>She was listening avidly, wide-eyed, the array of -well-known names telling her as nothing else could -have done the importance of the conference.</p> - -<p>“This meetin’ was a secret,” he went on. “These -men all traveled incognito, without servants, and were -met by an agent of General von Stromberg at Schöndorf -and conducted in automobiles to the huntin’ lodge -I have spoken of. These men remained there for two -days and two nights and then went home. But while -they were there they were makin’ new history for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -Europe.” He paused to fill his pipe but her curiosity -could not be restrained.</p> - -<p>“And what were they doing there, Cyril? I can’t -understand.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley got up and held his pipe to the candle, -for matches were scarce, and then, with maddening -calmness, sat beside her again.</p> - -<p>“That secret meetin’ of these chaps had to do with -nothin’ less than the ruin of France——”</p> - -<p>“France!” she cried. “England had nothing -against France and now she is her ally.”</p> - -<p>“Three years ago the political conditions were different,” -he answered. “Those representatives of England -came and sat with representatives of Germany -and Austria while they plotted the destruction of -France.”</p> - -<p>“But how do you know this, Cyril? I can’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“No more do I, but it’s a fact. Let me go on. At -the table in the lodge where this conference was held, -Viscount Melborne made notes of what was goin’ on, -includin’ the combinations of land and naval forces -that could be made against France and Russia, and -the plans to break the Russian Federation in the Balkans. -When the meetin’ was over all the scraps of -paper these chaps had scribbled on were destroyed by -fire before the eyes of the men who had made ’em, -except those of Viscount Melborne, who put ’em in -his pocket, and with them a pencil copy of this secret -treaty in his own handwriting. The original copy of -the treaty was entrusted to Harlow-Gorden, who put -it in his dispatch-box. It was not until the next day -when the Englishmen, in the train on the way to Paris, -discovered that Viscount Melborne’s private papers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -were missin’. Jolly fine mess—what? They got off at -the next stop, went back to Schöndorf and looked for -the papers, but neither there nor at the lodge was -there hair or hide of ’em. So they went back to England -hopin’ that by some fortunate accident the papers -had been destroyed.”</p> - -<p>“And these—” asked the girl, “are they?”</p> - -<p>He nodded. “To make the story short, I found out -where they had gone. My flights to Germany have -been made for this purpose. Don’t you see? The -papers came into the hands of the Emperor of Germany -and he was plannin’ to have ’em sent to the -President of the French Republic—England’s ally. It -wouldn’t do, you know, to have such papers at such a -time fall into the hands of France. Hardly a credit -to English diplomacy. What? Might even result in -a new <em>entente</em>.”</p> - -<p>“But where were the papers in the meanwhile?” she -asked.</p> - -<p>“That is what took me so bally long to find out. -After many hunts away from Windenberg at night, I -traced ’em to a Socialist by the name of Gottschalk -at Schöndorf, who had received ’em from a pensioner -of the Imperial Forest Service, one of the attendants -at the huntin’ lodge where the conference was held. -Whether he found ’em or stole ’em I don’t know, but -I frightened him and he confessed. I was on the very -point of stealing ’em from Gottschalk when I found -out that he had been writin’ to the Wilhelmstrasse, and -when I tried to get ’em they were gone. If I’d got ’em -then, you would not be here, Doris, and I——”</p> - -<p>“But how did you learn what the Wilhelmstrasse -proposed to do with them?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that was quite clear. The English Foreign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -Office has been badly frightened and has used every -effort with its secret agents in Berlin to get that -information. It reached London the other day. And -just before I left Scotland I knew the job was to be -given to General von Stromberg. The rest was Kismet—the -fortune of war—a jolly good piece of luck! -Lindberg overheard through the microphone von -Stromberg givin’ instructions to Wentz—so that His -Excellency’s own weapons were turned against him. -I was goin’ to waylay Wentz on the way to France, -but circumstances prevented——”</p> - -<p>“It was I, Cyril,” she broke in pleadingly. “I didn’t -know. I betrayed you.”</p> - -<p>“A trick,” he laughed, “invented in the Rameses -family—but still useful.”</p> - -<p>“He frightened me,” she stammered. “I believed -the message signed ‘Maxwell’ genuine.”</p> - -<p>“Not Maxwell,” he said gravely, “for Maxwell—a -sore spot since the war began in the side of the War -Office—Maxwell is dead.”</p> - -<p>“You——?” she exclaimed fearfully.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he replied. “I told and they caught him. I -couldn’t do so before. It’s war, Doris. It is a fair -game. I ask no favors—nor do I give any.”</p> - -<p>She was silent a moment looking into the fire.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I understand—a terrible game with odds -against——” And then, after a pause, “You say that -we will get away. Won’t you tell me your plan?”</p> - -<p>He rose with a confident laugh.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have a plan, but I’m not going to tell it now. -You are going to sleep.”</p> - -<p>She laughed wearily and sat up.</p> - -<p>“And you? Where will you sleep?”</p> - -<p>“By the fire. I’ve got some thinkin’ to do. I’m not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -sleepy. I had eight hours last night. I’m going to -watch.”</p> - -<p>He bent over her and gently made her lie down. -“I will talk to you no more. You must go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>She sighed and stretched herself out while he covered -her with his coat. Then he put a fresh log on -the fire and sat beside her again. In a moment he -heard her voice.</p> - -<p>“I hope you don’t mind my telling you, Cyril, that -I love you a great deal.”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind -listenin’ while you said it all night. But——”</p> - -<p>“There. You’re going to insist on my sleeping -again!”</p> - -<p>“Won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t seem to feel as if I could ever sleep again. -You’re so cool, so calm, Cyril. How <em>can</em> you be?”</p> - -<p>“No bally use gettin’ excited. Here we are snug as -two bugs in a rug. We’ll slip through them some -way.”</p> - -<p>“But where will we go?”</p> - -<p>He smiled.</p> - -<p>“I have a notion of goin’ to England.” His kind -of quiet humor always put her on her mettle.</p> - -<p>“To England—?” She started up.</p> - -<p>“There won’t be much chance of your doin’ anythin’ -tomorrow if you don’t get your sleep,” he insisted -gently. “Do what I ask, Doris. Sleep you -must.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll try. Good night, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“Good night.” He kissed her on the forehead and -drew his jacket over her again, then sat beside her, -her hand in his, watching. Gradually her nerves grew -quiet and weariness mastered her. He waited until<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -her breathing indicated sleep, when he carefully relinquished -her hand and moved to the fire, where he carefully -studied the papers by the light of his candle, -after which he slipped them into the pocket of his -trousers and moved softly across the cave into a corner, -where he opened the lid of a tin box and examined -its contents, taking out a fresh candle to replace the -other one, which was on the point of expiring.</p> - -<p>Then he filled his pipe with great deliberateness and, -returning to the stool by the fire, crossed his knees and -bent forward, gazing into the blaze, his brows tangled -in deep thought. He had succeeded in getting what -he came for. So far, the secret of the meeting in the -shooting lodge was safe. But for how long? By this -time a description of the two of them had, of course, -been telegraphed to every village and military station -in Germany. That wouldn’t do at all. Alone it might -be managed, with a German officer’s uniform and Herr -Lieutenant Orstmann’s military orders, but with Doris—it -wasn’t to be thought of.</p> - -<p>The other alternative appealed to him more -strongly. He had matched his wits against von Stromberg’s -so far and had won, and success made him hopeful. -Where carefulness failed, audacity sometimes -succeeded. The more he thought of his plan, the -deeper became his conviction that it was the only one -possible under the circumstances. There was continued -danger for the papers and he deliberated for a -long while upon the wisdom of destroying them at -once, finally rejecting that idea except as a last alternative. -His word that he had destroyed them would -perhaps be sufficient to ease the minds of the gentlemen -at the Foreign Office, but there were certain memoranda -about the promises of Germany to England<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -signed with the initials of Prince von Waldheim which -should at all costs be saved. But aside from this -consideration, Hammersley, having carried his affairs -thus far successfully, had a pride in finishing it as he -had planned. It could be done—he would do it.</p> - -<p>He got up and put another log on the fire and -then stretched himself out at full length upon the -rocks, gazing into the flame. In the corner where the -bed was he heard the steady breathing of the girl. -What a trump she was— What a tr——</p> - -<p>He nodded and then dozed. Troubled visions flitted -across his mind. Once he thought he heard the sound -of a footstep on the rocks and started up. It was -broad daylight. He listened for a while and then -slowly sank back and slept again. How long he did -not know, for something awakened him and he sat up, -reaching instinctively for the holster lying at his side, -to look straight into the muzzle of an automatic, behind -which was the handsome blond head of Udo von -Winden.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a><br /> -<small>THE FIGHT IN THE CAVERN</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Udo loomed against the light and the uniform he -wore seemed to give the projecting weapon -a new significance. He was not Udo, the -kinsman and companion who had so often shared this -refuge with Hammersley in the hunting days. He -was Germany. Hammersley could never remember the -time when the muzzle of a weapon had seemed so large. -It was much better to sit without moving, and Udo’s -quick instructions were not wasted.</p> - -<p>“Don’t move, Cyril,” he said coolly in German. “Up -with your hands! So. Now get up, leaving your belt -where it is, and sit on the stool yonder. Quickly! I -will shoot—to kill.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley read in his expression a determination -to put the threat into practice and, watching narrowly, -silently obeyed. Von Winden, still covering -him carefully, picked up the belt and transferred -Lindberg’s pistol to his own holster. He was a dead -shot with any firearm, as Hammersley knew, and his -own chances at three paces even in a rush were small. -It was decidedly a case for discretion.</p> - -<p>“I suppose there’s nothing to be said,” Hammersley -muttered. “You outguessed me, Udo.” And then, to -gain a moment of time, “I thought that your memory -might be quite good enough to forget the Thorwald.” -Von Winden frowned down the barrel of the automatic.</p> - -<p>“It is too much to expect even from me,” he said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -crisply. “I am your kinsman but I am first of all—a -German. And not even for you will I be a traitor.”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Natürlich!</i>” smiled Cyril.</p> - -<p>Udo von Winden’s look was grave, his voice sober, -and the muzzle of his automatic did not waver.</p> - -<p>“I have already had a bad memory, my cousin. -This afternoon I forgot that Lindberg, who served -your meals, was a good friend of yours and mine and -that he might be counted on to help you out of your -difficulties. I also forgot that there was such a place -as the Cave of the Thorwald until I learned from Excellenz -last night, the price Germany was to pay for -my indifference. If you had failed to capture the -documents of His Majesty, I might have remained -silent. As you took them, there remained nothing but -to act. I came here, for I knew it would be the one -place where I should find you.” Hammersley bent his -head. “I understand.” And then quickly, “Would -you mind telling me if you have spoken—if you have -told what Lindberg—?”</p> - -<p>“No,” von Winden broke in, “I have told nothing. -Lindberg is safe. I have come here alone——”</p> - -<p>Hammersley gave a gasp of relief and leaned forward, -peering into the fire.</p> - -<p>“I came for one purpose, Cyril,” Udo went on -quietly. “I have no personal desire for your death, -but I would kill you as you sit rather than see Germany -suffer the loss of the documents in your possession. -I came for them and I intend that you shall -give them to me.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley looked up into his cousin’s face and -their eyes met. Von Winden’s tone was cool and his -manner as calm as on the days last year when they -were hunting together, but Hammersley knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -when Udo von Winden was most calm he was also most -dangerous. So he slowly reached into the pocket of -his trousers and handed his cousin the papers he had -taken from the German messenger.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Danke</i>,” said Udo, backing to the light of the entrance -of the cave to examine them. “You are sure -they are all here?”</p> - -<p>“My word on it, Udo,” said Hammersley frankly. -He watched his cousin examine the documents and -heard him give an exclamation of satisfaction, but -Hammersley saw that his eyes neglected no detail of -the cavern and was aware that the muzzle of the -weapon in Udo’s hand still bore directly upon him. -In the shadows Hammersley saw the face of Doris, -who was sitting up, pallid and dark-eyed as though -awakened from one nightmare into another. As Udo -saw her the muzzle of his weapon wavered and went -out of alignment, but Hammersley did not move or -even appear to notice the girl.</p> - -<p>There was a note of embarrassment in the German’s -officer’s voice as he spoke again.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry, my cousin, that your father’s blood -called you to be false to Germany. You had been suspected -by Excellenz, but I would have sworn that he -was mistaken. You owe me nothing, of course, -but——”</p> - -<p>“It’s war, Udo,” said Hammersley quietly. “You -will remember that I did not seek duty in the Imperial -Secret Service. It was the Herr General who thought -it valuable to use our kinship for his own purposes.”</p> - -<p>Udo shrugged. “Yes, I know,” he said quietly. -“You have done your duty—but you must now be -aware of the fact that you can ask no favors of -me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t. I am in your power. Shoot me if you -like.”</p> - -<p>Udo smiled.</p> - -<p>“I can hardly be expected to do that. I do not love -you now, my cousin. I cannot love anyone who is false -to my country, but I cannot forget that once, not a -year ago, we were brothers. No, I cannot shoot you, -Cyril, though perhaps that would be a better death -than that other—yonder.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley shrugged. “It is the fortune of war. -From your point of view I deserve it. I can only thank -you again, for myself and for Miss Mather, for your -generosity.”</p> - -<p>A sound from the girl and Udo acknowledged her -presence by a bow.</p> - -<p>“Under other circumstances,” he said with stiff politeness, -“I should be glad to extend the hospitalities -of Winden Schloss. But, of course, as Miss Mather -can see, my mother and sisters are away and I——”</p> - -<p>“Of course, Graf von Winden, it is understood,” -she said haltingly in German.</p> - -<p>“I can do nothing, Fräulein. I am powerless—at -the orders of General von Stromberg, who arranges -the coming and the going of all at Windenberg.”</p> - -<p>“The coming, Udo,” said Hammersley dryly. “Not -the going.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry, I have done what I could. You have -done well to give me the papers. I shall now go back -to Blaufelden and return them to Excellenz.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley started up.</p> - -<p>“You mean that you will leave us here?”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Natürlich.</i> I do not wish to see you killed against -the kitchen wall. It is not the death for the blood of -von Eppingen. Even if you are shot while escaping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -it would be better.” He shrugged. “My position is -this. You can do Germany no further harm. I shall -tell a likely story. I have the papers—they are what -I came for. If you had not given them to me I would -have killed you, but now I shall go away alone as I -came.”</p> - -<p>“Good old Udo!” said Hammersley impulsively, taking -a pace toward him, his hand outstretched.</p> - -<p>But von Winden’s automatic came quickly into line -and Hammersley halted.</p> - -<p>“One moment, my cousin,” said von Winden coolly. -“I am quite willing to accept your expressions of -gratitude from a distance. I may not wish to see you -killed by others, and I would regret the necessity of -killing you myself. I shall consider you my prisoner -until I go. After that”—and he shrugged expressively—“you -can go where you like.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley folded his arms and frowned.</p> - -<p>“Where I like!” he muttered. “With every village -in Hesse-Nassau on the lookout for me.” There was -a pause, after which von Winden spoke with quiet -earnestness. “Unfortunately I may not help you further. -Since there is food, to wait here is safer. Alone, -traveling by night, a man might reach Basel safely. -As for the Fräulein, if she will return to Blaufelden -and give herself up, imprisonment for a time is perhaps -the worst that she need fear.”</p> - -<p>Doris had risen, the white light from the door of the -cavern searching her face pitilessly.</p> - -<p>“It is what I would do,” she said haltingly. “What -I have pleaded with him to let me do. Cyril,” she implored -in English, “you must let me.”</p> - -<p>“I will think about it,” he muttered. “You are -sure that no harm will come to her?” The muzzle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -the automatic had wavered out of line again and -Hammersley was carefully measuring with his eye the -distance that separated him from his cousin.</p> - -<p>“The bark of Excellenz is much worse than his bite. -He will bluster and storm. But eventually he will return -Miss Mather to her own people.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley was shaking his head in indecision.</p> - -<p>“I am not so sure that I agree with you about the -bite of Excellenz. I shall think of what I will do. -I’m sure of one thing, Udo,” he said with sincerity, -“that I am deeply grateful for what you have done. -The war has made us enemies, and you have now prevented -the success of my great venture. But I bear -you no illwill. The debt is still mine on account of -your silence, back there—a debt made deeper by the -presence of Fräulein Mather.” He paused to give his -words effect. “I had not told you, Udo, for at Windenberg -one has no time to think of the gentler things of -life. But just before the war broke out Fräulein -Mather had promised me to become my wife.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley watched von Winden as he turned toward -Doris with a smile, bowing deeply, his sense of -the situation lost for a second in the obligations of -civility, as he murmured a phrase of congratulations. -“I am much honored by your confidences,” he said formally, -“and I deeply regret——”</p> - -<p>He got no further, for Hammersley had sprung in -suddenly toward him, risking Udo’s shot, which was -fired quickly, without aim.</p> - -<p>A furious struggle followed. Hammersley caught -at von Winden’s wrist and his weight bore him back -against the rock, while both of them fought for the -possession of the weapon. The German officer was -smaller than his cousin but his wrists were good and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -he was quicker than Hammersley. They bore only -friendship for each other but the incentive of each -was greater even than hatred could have been. They -struggled in silence, the thought of the possession of -the papers uppermost in the minds of both. The -struggle was not that of kinsman against kinsman, but -of England against Germany. Realizing the desperateness -of Hammersley’s attack and the purpose of -it, von Winden knew that a victory for Hammersley -meant the loss of the papers and so he was bent on -killing his cousin if he could, Hammersley on preventing -him from doing so. They swayed from side -to side, breathing hard, while Doris crouched against -the side of the cavern, dumb with terror. Twice she -saw the weapon in the German officer’s hand point -downward toward Cyril’s back and then, before it -could be used, saw Cyril’s arm quickly push it upward. -She knew that she was in danger, but she did not know -what to do. At one moment von Winden seemed to -have the advantage and in another Cyril. Udo’s back -was against the wall and one of Cyril’s arms was -around him, while their legs were intertwined as each -tried to get the other off his balance. Suddenly with -an effort Hammersley managed to wrench the pistol -from von Winden’s hand and he tossed it into the corner -of the cavern.</p> - -<p>Von Winden had every ethical right to kill Hammersley -if he could, but after what his cousin had done -for him, Hammersley could not kill Udo. That was -impossible. He must succeed without that. This generosity -nearly proved fatal to him for the German -managed to reach Hammersley’s automatic in his own -holster and had almost disengaged it when Hammersley -caught his hand again, and the struggle was renewed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -But Doris, whose senses and initiative had -slowly returned to her, now crept around the walls of -the cave and when von Winden’s outstretched hand -came within her reach she seized his forearm in both -of her hands and clung to it desperately, keeping the -muzzle pointed away from Cyril. She was swayed to -and fro with the struggling men, who finally toppled -sideways and fell to the floor, dragging her with them, -but von Winden’s grasp of the weapon, never quite -secure, was loosened and, as they dropped, it went -flying under the table.</p> - -<p>The fight was soon out of the German, for Hammersley’s -weight had fallen on him heavily, and in a -moment the officer was flat on his back and Hammersley -was sitting on him. Doris, who had meanwhile picked -up the pistol, now heard Hammersley gasping jerkily.</p> - -<p>“Quick, Doris—something to tie with—your stay-strings!”</p> - -<p>She understood and disappeared outside the cavern, -returning presently with the bonds, helping Cyril while -he made the wrists and ankles of von Winden fast.</p> - -<p>“I might have killed you—but I didn’t,” Hammersley -was gasping. “You saw that, Udo, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“You needn’t make apologies. I would have killed -you. I tried to. It’s too bad—too bad,” he panted.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry,” Hammersley repeated. “Those papers—they’re -England’s, Udo. They’re my property. I’ve -got to take them.”</p> - -<p>And without further words he put his hand inside -the breast of the officer’s coat and took the papers -out.</p> - -<p>“I wish it were anybody but you,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you can get away with them.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to try.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ll prevent you if I can.”</p> - -<p>“How?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll show you.” And with the remnants of his -breath he shouted lustily for help. Hammersley threw -him back, none too gently, and clapped a handkerchief -in his mouth, while he directed Doris to tear her under-skirt -and make bandages for a gag. They worked -quickly and in a moment the German officer was silent -and helpless. Then for a long moment Hammersley -sat by the prostrate man, slowly recovering his breath. -Doris, ash-gray with fear, crouched beside him, obedient -to his look and action. At last with a laugh he -got up.</p> - -<p>“Close thing, that!” he said. “My word! He nearly -got me.” And then with a look at the prostrate man, -“Poor old Udo!”</p> - -<p>In a moment, with a word to Doris, he went outside -the cave and listened intently. He peered cautiously -over the ridge of rocks. The road was deserted. The -sound of the shot, while it had seemed deafening, would -have been muffled at the entrance of the cavern and -could not have been heard from a distance. And when -Hammersley returned, he reassured Doris as to the -immediate danger of discovery.</p> - -<p>“There is no hurry, Doris. I must think,” he said, -filling his pipe. He stood upright for a while, puffing -rapidly, peering down at the captive, his expression -struggling between a frown and a smile. Herr Graf -Udo von Winden looked so very much like a mummy! -The eyes of his cousin, the only visible part of his face, -followed Hammersley intently.</p> - -<p>“I could have done for you, Udo,” Hammersley repeated. -“I want to be sure that you understand that.”</p> - -<p>Von Winden’s head moved ever so slightly. Doris<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -had sunk upon the stool, her face buried in her hands.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s cruel!” she murmured. “Let him go, -Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“Hardly,” said Hammersley coolly. “He’d raise a -rumpus. Wouldn’t you, Udo?”</p> - -<p>The officer’s head did not move.</p> - -<p>“You see?” said Hammersley. “But I’m going to -make him as comfortable as possible.” And taking -him by the armpits he dragged his cousin over to the -corner and laid him gently on the bed of balsam, and -then stood beside the bed looking down at him thoughtfully, -addressing him impersonally in English, as -though thinking aloud.</p> - -<p>“What’s to become of you, when we go, old chap—that’s -what’s bothering me now.”</p> - -<p>The German’s shoulders moved slightly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s all very well, but I can’t leave you up -here to rot, my cousin. No one knows the way to the -Crag of the Thorwald. You might be here a thousand -years if Lindberg shouldn’t come.”</p> - -<p>Von Winden made no sign. It was obvious that he -had no further intention of helping in the solution of -the difficulty.</p> - -<p>“Let me stay here with him, Cyril,” Doris was -pleading again. “It can do me no harm, and when you -are well on your way, I will release him and go back -to Blaufelden.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t take that chance. You’re going with me.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“To England.”</p> - -<p>“But how?”</p> - -<p>“Leave that to me. At present we must have breakfast. -Do you know it’s almost ten o’clock?”</p> - -<p>Bewildered, she watched him go to the large tin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -box in the corner of the cavern, from which he brought -forth some dry salt biscuit and several pieces of chocolate.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t much, but it’s the best I can do. There’s -tea, too, but I don’t dare light the fire.”</p> - -<p>She ate, slowly at first, for the food seemed to choke -her, but she recalled the fact that except for two pieces -of toast and the chocolate of von Stromberg she had -eaten nothing since yesterday morning. Cyril, who -never seemed at a loss for anything, produced a metal -pitcher and going outside the cave for a moment -returned with it full of water.</p> - -<p>“Lindberg’s,” he said in reply to her question. “His -food, too. Good old Lindberg.”</p> - -<p>He frowned and then went over to the prisoner.</p> - -<p>“You needn’t tell me if you don’t care to, Udo, but -I’d like to know how Lindberg is. Will you answer -me?”</p> - -<p>Von Winden nodded.</p> - -<p>“He is able to be about?”</p> - -<p>He nodded again.</p> - -<p>“Did His Excellency suspect?”</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Thank God. Then Lindberg is at liberty?”</p> - -<p>Udo replied in the affirmative.</p> - -<p>Hammersley gave a gasp of relief.</p> - -<p>“That is well. I need not worry. He will come -and release you.”</p> - -<p>Von Winden only frowned.</p> - -<p>“Listen, Udo,” went on Hammersley quickly, -“Fräulein Mather and I are going down from here, -leaving you alone. It can’t be helped. You’ve stumbled -up here and you’ve got to take your chance. In -time you may wear the strings through against a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -rock. If you don’t return to Blaufelden by tomorrow, -Lindberg will find you.”</p> - -<p>“But suppose anything happened to Lindberg,” -Doris was whispering. “Ah, Cyril, it would be terrible -to leave him here. I should dream of it every night -of my life.”</p> - -<p>Udo’s eyes smiled at her.</p> - -<p>“There is little danger. Graf von Winden is not a -man to be so easily beaten. He will get away by tonight. -But in the meanwhile we will have gone far -enough to be out of his reach.”</p> - -<p>“Where are we going?”</p> - -<p>“To England, child—in the Yellow Dove,” he -laughed.</p> - -<p>Doris started away from him, her eyes suddenly -brilliant with excitement, and the prisoner, who had -lain without movement, showed sudden signs of activity, -his eyes frowning and his head wagging in anxiety.</p> - -<p>“He wants to speak,” said Doris.</p> - -<p>Hammersley bent over his cousin.</p> - -<p>“Will you promise not to shout?”</p> - -<p>Von Winden nodded quickly. So Hammersley untied -the bandages that held the handkerchief in the prisoner’s -mouth and helped him to a sitting posture.</p> - -<p>“You must not go,” he stammered quickly in German. -“It is impossible. You will fail. I warn you.”</p> - -<p>“Why do you think so?”</p> - -<p>“The machines are guarded, and the spark-plugs of -your Taube have been removed and hidden.”</p> - -<p>“H’m,” said Hammersley thoughtfully. “Excellenz -neglects nothing.”</p> - -<p>“You would go to your death.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps. Thanks for the warning,” said Hammersley -bluntly. “I’m going just the same.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> - -<p>Von Winden looked at him in amazement. “You do -not believe me?” he asked. “It is the truth, I tell -you.”</p> - -<p>“I shall find a way.”</p> - -<p>“But there is no way. You think that I am trying -to persuade you to escape by the mountains so that -you may be captured with the papers?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I could not escape that way now. You -know it.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not, but what you plan is insane.”</p> - -<p>“Fortune favors the fool. I’ve made up my mind.”</p> - -<p>“Then you deserve to be shot,” said Udo. “In the -forest at least you would have a chance—<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach</i>—!” He -gave a guttural exclamation and then: “Bind me and -leave me then—quickly. It’s good-by.”</p> - -<p>“Good-by, Udo,” said Hammersley with a smile. -“We’ll meet again, when Hesse-Nassau is an English -province.”</p> - -<p>“Bah, Cyril,” said von Winden. “I have always -said that you were a fool.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley replaced the gag and bound it into -place with great care, smiling the while. Then he removed -the belt which contained his cousin’s supply of -cartridges and fastened it around his own body above -Lindberg’s, loading the two weapons with care and -placing them in their holsters.</p> - -<p>Doris watched these preparations anxiously, but -Hammersley made her eat her fill of chocolate and biscuits -and when they had finished, he went to the corner -of the cavern and brought forth a large and heavy -parcel which he put on the table and opened. Doris -saw that Captain von Winden was straightening on -the couch trying to see what it contained. Hammersley -did not even glance in his direction. He seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -to know by instinct that Udo’s curiosity had gotten -the better of his dignity. He opened the package deliberately -and spread the contents out upon the table.</p> - -<p>“Spare parts of the Taube, Udo. I’ve had them -here for weeks. I’ll let you have a peep at ’em if you -like. A socket-wrench, spark-plugs, bolts, nuts and -wire—by Jove—we might have used that on Udo.”</p> - -<p>“You are afraid that what he says is true,” whispered -Doris anxiously. “Von Stromberg is prepared -for you.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder,” he said.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a><br /> -<small>HARE AND HOUNDS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">For two hours or more, Hammersley and the -girl, taking turn and turn, watched the road -and forest from the amphitheater of rocks. -The road in times of peace was a short route from -Windenberg to Schöndorf and popular with the market-folk. -But the restrictions put upon visits to Blaufelden -had resulted in the diversion of traffic from the -south slope of the mountains to the longer road in the -valley upon the other side. The few who appeared -were men in uniform. From his lofty perch Hammersley -espied Captain Wentz as he hurried by with -several men in an automobile. Just beyond the crag -the automobile was stopped and the men dismounted -and went on afoot. Clearly they meant to continue the -search abroad. Hammersley chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Hare and hounds!” he muttered to himself. “The -more men to the eastward, the fewer to the west. By -Jove!”</p> - -<p>The expletive was not unusual with Hammersley -but the manner of its utterance gave it importance. -He crossed the level quickly and peered again at the -vanishing figures of the men. A new idea had been -born. Hare and hounds! A game he had played at -Eton—a game as old as sport, as old as hunting! And -for such a prize!</p> - -<p>He hurried into the cave, glancing hurriedly at his -watch. It was noon. Doris sat upon the stool near<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> -Udo von Winden. Hammersley went over to their captive -and examined his bonds and then gave the girl a -few hasty instructions.</p> - -<p>“I am going down below to be gone two—perhaps -three hours.”</p> - -<p>A quick intake of the breath escaped her but she -caught her under lip in her teeth and said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry,” he went on cheerfully, “I’m coming -back. I’ll promise you that. I’ve got a plan,” he -whispered, “a new plan, a noble plan, a plan that will -make our game an easy one. It will be harder for you -than for me, Doris, because you’ve only got to sit and -wait and try to be patient.”</p> - -<p>While he was talking he had taken off the belts that -contained the two pistols, fastening one around Doris. -Then he took off his leather jacket and put it on the -table, fastening the other belt containing Udo’s cartridges -and automatic over his gray sweater. She -watched him timidly.</p> - -<p>“But suppose Graf von Winden should get his arms -free,” she protested. “I cannot shoot him, Cyril—I -cannot—not that——”</p> - -<p>“He won’t trouble you. I’ll arrange that.” He -took from his coat pocket the documents captured -from the Emperor’s messenger and held them up so -that Udo von Winden could see them.</p> - -<p>“I must leave you for a while, Udo. Awfully sorry, -but it’s most urgent.” He laughed. “You won’t mind, -will you? Or try to make things difficult?”</p> - -<p>He turned quickly and while both the girl and the -prisoner wondered what he was about to do, he went -to the tin box in the corner, brought out a new candle, -lighted it and held the papers so that the prisoner -could see them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you observe what I am doing, Udo? Miss -Mather will sit here upon the opposite side of the cave. -If you attempt to get up from your bed, she will burn -the papers. Simple, isn’t it? Also quite effective. -She doesn’t want to shoot you, Udo—nor do I. And -of course if the papers were burned, it wouldn’t hurt -England a great deal. As long as the papers are in -Germany, my capture may throw them into German -hands, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>Udo von Winden’s head moved slightly from left to -right.</p> - -<p>With an <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">auf wiedersehen</i> thrown over his shoulder -at Udo, Hammersley went outside the cave, where -Doris followed him. She was on the point of tears, -but she succeeded in a smile.</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry, Doris, old girl. Just going down -for a stroll about.”</p> - -<p>“But why, Cyril?”</p> - -<p>“Goin’ to throw ’em off the scent,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“But they’re already off the scent.”</p> - -<p>For answer he kissed her gently and bade her keep -up her courage. Then he gave her the papers, saw -her inside the cave again and in a moment was gone.</p> - -<p>The more Hammersley thought of his plan the better -it seemed to him. The day was still young. In -three hours he could do much. He crossed the amphitheater -of rocks and followed the rocky gorge by -which he had entered last night and when he emerged -upon the farther side, paused and watched for a while -to be sure that Wentz and his men were not in sight -and then descended the face of the rocks skillfully and -in a moment was creeping on all fours through the -underbrush up the side of the mountain. It was steep -here and rugged, but in a while he reached the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -deer trail over which he had passed when he had -doubled on his pursuers last night. But instead of -following it, he halted a moment to listen and then -crossed into the undergrowth which at this point was -so thick that at twenty paces even he was not visible. -He slipped among the treetrunks and evergreens, moving -rapidly, making a wide circle up the mountainside -almost to its top, descending then by easy stages, until -he had covered four miles at least when he bore slowly -down toward the Schöndorf road.</p> - -<p>Hare and hounds! An exciting game even in the -old days when it meant athletic honors, but now, with -the alternatives of death as the penalty of capture and -a great triumph as the reward of escape, it made his -blood run madly. A good game—a fair game, with -success as the reward of intelligence.</p> - -<p>He planned carefully. He must be sure to come -down into the open at a spot beyond where Wentz and -his men were searching. He knew the country well. -There was a village on the hillside, half a mile below. -It was midway between Schöndorf and the farm house -at Blaufelden. The families of some of the foresters -lived there and there was telephonic connection both -with the farm and Windenberg. All of the men of -Mittelwald who were not in the Forest Service were off -at the front and the chances were that unless Wentz -and his men were there, Hammersley would see only -women and children. But he knew that von Stromberg -had neglected nothing that would give an inkling of -his whereabouts and his presence would be at once -reported and the chase begin. He was in excellent condition, -trained a little too fine perhaps for an Englishman, -but fit. He had done little running since leaving -the University, and though he had lost some of his old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -speed, he could rely upon the thought of his danger -and Doris’s to provide the incentive for extraordinary -effort.</p> - -<p>Mittelwald lay in a clearing similar to that at Blaufelden, -and its farms, if farms they could be called, -clambered up the hillside and straggled over beyond -the road where they were merged into the undergrowth -of young oaks. The Schöndorf road, curving this way -and that, passed between the houses, which were set at -irregular intervals, like the strips on the tail of a kite. -He went on through the underbrush, coming out into -the open upon the road at the point where it entered -the woods upon the Schöndorf side. Then he settled -his automatic loosely in its sheath, and went forward -boldly. His eye had marked the line of the telephone -wire and followed it to the gable of one of the largest -houses in the village. It was to this house that he -made his way. A young woman was working in the -garden and he approached her quietly and politely, but -with an air of a man not to be trifled with, asked for -food. He was aware that he was unshorn, covered with -mud, and that his face was streaked with dirt and perspiration, -but he knew that his appearance alone could -not have accounted for the sudden blanching of the -woman’s face and the air of alarm with which she regarded -him. She straightened and fell back two or -three paces toward the house, unable to speak a word -in reply. So he repeated his request, while her mouth -gaped at him and her eyes grew rounder. At last -she managed to stammer,</p> - -<p>“Food! You are hungry?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Potato bread—anything, but quickly. I will -go with you to the house.” And he indicated the -way.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> - -<p>She stumbled on before him, her head jerking anxiously -this way and that over her shoulder as though -she feared at any moment to receive a blow or a shot -in the back. But he followed her indoors and noted -with satisfaction that she appeared after all to be a -woman of some intelligence. A thing that pleased him -further was the telephone instrument in the corner.</p> - -<p>“Milk, if you please, and quickly. I will take the -bread with me.” And while she timorously brought -them out, “Who lives here?”</p> - -<p>“F-Förster Habermehl.”</p> - -<p>“Where is he?” peremptorily.</p> - -<p>“At Windenberg.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! There are no men here?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“That is well, then.” He drank a glass of milk -greedily and tore off a piece of the loaf. “You are -a good girl. Heaven will reward you.” He made his -way to the door, looking out cautiously, and then -turned and put his hand in his pocket, bringing out a -piece of money. “See,” he laughed, “I have concluded -to reward you myself. Cash. Much better than hopes, -<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nicht wahr</i>?”</p> - -<p>She fetched a timorous smile and bobbed shyly.</p> - -<p>“You will do me a favor,” he said in a whisper as -he went out of the door, “if you will tell no one of my -visit.”</p> - -<p>And with that, chuckling to himself, went down the -road again in the direction of Schöndorf, watching the -turn in the road below the village for a glimpse of -Wentz and his men. Before he reached the edge of the -open country he paused and listened. From the house -that he had visited came the faint tinkle of a bell. -Frau Habermehl had lost no time. She had notified<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -the master of the hounds who was clamoring for the -scent.</p> - -<p>Hammersley walked around the turn in the road, -which hid him from the house, and then went into the -bushes where he sat on a fallen log, peeping through -the leaves toward the further side of the clearing, -where General von Stromberg’s men must appear. He -did not know how long he would have to wait. Half -an hour, perhaps longer. If he knew anything of von -Stromberg, they would come in every sort of available -vehicle, from a high-powered machine to a donkey cart, -picking up the misguided Wentz and his men upon the -way to follow this new scent. It was difficult to sit -still and wait. Hammersley wanted a smoke awfully, -but he chewed a twig instead, for he needed to keep -his wind in good condition and had purposely left his -pipe at the Thorwald. He did not want to get too far -away from Doris. By the way he intended to return -he was now at least six miles from the cavern and -with the mile or so he must go toward Schöndorf before -he turned, a good eight miles of rough going lay -between himself and safety.</p> - -<p>Under other circumstances, he would have greatly -enjoyed the chance for a rest. With a cooler wind -from the northeast the weather had cleared and the -period of higher temperatures through which they had -passed seemed to be drawing to a close. In spite of -the doubts that hung about his plan, he couldn’t help -saying to himself that he felt jolly fit.</p> - -<p>Twenty minutes—twenty-five. He got up and -stretched his long limbs luxuriously. The hare was -ready. It was time they cast forward the hounds. A -peep through the bushes showed him Frau Habermehl -standing near her home watching the road to Windenberg.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -So he came out of his place of concealment and -stood in the open again until he was sure that she saw -him, when he turned and went slowly toward Schöndorf. -He had planned his moment nicely for before -he was out of sight of the clearing, an automobile came -into view—paused a moment before Frau Habermehl -and then came on rapidly.</p> - -<p>Hammersley waited until they had “viewed” him -and then cut into the woods to his left, slipping from -tree to tree not fifty yards in the cover when the -machine came to a stop and the men jumped down and -came after him. He did not know who was in command -and did not care, but just to show them that he -was the man they were after, he risked a shot with his -automatic and then sped along rapidly, working up -the mountainside, following in a general way the direction -of Schöndorf. He heard them plunging after him -in full cry and the sound of their footsteps made -him move at a rare pace. He knew well this piece of -woods, and in a moment came to a path which curved -to the right, leading straight up the mountain. When -he reached it he paused to look over his shoulder. It -was difficult to see the green uniforms, but there was a -flash of light from a patch of fir trees and a twig just -above his head fell across his path. His curiosity was -satisfied. He shut his mouth and, breathing through -his nostrils, went off with a burst of speed which put -him around a turn in the path before any of the green -uniforms had come into sight. He had them coming -now, two—three men—one little one and two big ones. -He caught a glimpse of them in a moment when the -path came into a glade of rocks and barrens. There -was his danger. A chance shot might get him when -they emerged, before he found the cover again. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -leaping from rock to rock he managed to reach the -path upon the other side, and their shots went wild.</p> - -<p>When he reached cover he halted a moment for a -breath, firing a shot in the direction of the advancing -men, who promptly dropped to cover. And when they -came on again, he had gained a clear lead of a hundred -yards or more.</p> - -<p>He had foreseen his greatest danger—of being -caught in thick underbrush and surrounded—so he kept -to the main path, only leaving it for a smaller and -more tortuous one, when the other turned down the -mountain toward the road again. Since the exchange -of shots his pursuers had become more cautious and -when they reached the fork of the paths they stopped, -sweating in their heavy coats and cursing lustily, while -they debated upon the question as to which path he -had taken. The hounds were at fault. From a point -above, he could see them quite clearly and one of them -was the Fatalist who had been his jailor last evening. -Just to discover whether he was sincere in his philosophy, -Hammersley sent a bullet skipping above his -head. He ducked and Hammersley laughed.</p> - -<p>“Silly ass!” he muttered. “Fatalist! Fatality if -I’d aimed at him!”</p> - -<p>And he was off again, for other men had joined the -leaders and the scent was hot. He carried them fast, -up to the bald top of the mountain where the going was -faster, and down in the valley to the right. They had -gained nothing on him and Hammersley with his second -wind was breathing more easily, but it was almost time -to double. Here was as good a place as another for -the pack of them to spend the afternoon and he made -up his mind to lose them without further ado. There -was only one runner in the lot and he was the Fatalist,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -though how he had ever happened to learn to run in -the Imperial Navy, Hammersley had not the time or -inclination to decide. If his philosophy limped, his -legs at least were strong and he came on rapidly leaping -like a young buck toward the opening over the -crest of the knob into which Hammersley had disappeared. -A short way down was a spur of rock, the -beginnings of a ridge which cut out into the hills, -the watershed of two rills which leaped from rock to -rock to the valleys below. Hammersley chose the -right-hand valley for the going was better, and went -down it at top speed for a quarter of a mile or more, -pausing where the path led into the underbrush and -pines until the Fatalist should view him when he disappeared, -and then turning into the thicket circled -quickly to the left, and taking advantage of every -cover, slowly and carefully climbed the ridge to a -place of vantage where he crouched and waited, to have -the satisfaction a moment later of seeing his ex-jailor, -weapon in hand, go plunging down the path past his -place of concealment.</p> - -<p>Hammersley listened a moment to the sounds of -crashing feet in front of him and behind, and then, -creeping slowly and making what speed he could, -crossed the ridge and in a while was out of sight and -hearing of them. He feared little in crossing the other -valley, for his pursuers were strung out in a line, each -in sight of the other, and would follow the leader like -a flock of sheep. But there was little time to waste -and the greatest test of Hammersley’s endurance and -Doris’s was to come. For two, perhaps three hours, -these men would search for him, and more would come. -The Fatalist would bear the brunt of their failure, but -in the meanwhile Hammersley must reach the cave in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> -the Thorwald and take Doris to Blaufelden. The first -part of the return run must be done at top speed to -save time which would be needed later. So when he -crossed the second valley in safety and had reached the -mountaintop, Hammersley abandoned all caution, risking -the chance of meeting Wentz and his men, and with -a sharp lookout ahead of him went as fast as he could -along the ridge, finding at last the trail by which he -had come earlier in the day, down which he ran with a -long stride which covered the four miles in less than -half an hour. He reached the upper passage to the -cave in safety and in a moment was safe behind the -projecting bowlders of the amphitheater. He was -breathing heavily, and the sweat was pouring from -him. Doris was watching for him.</p> - -<p>“They’re following you? They’re coming?” she -asked nervously.</p> - -<p>He quieted her and led her inside the cave, where -he dropped for a moment of rest upon the stool. Doris -watched him anxiously. In a moment he was laughing.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I led ’em a rippin’ run straight for Schöndorf,” -he gasped. “They’re pattin’ me out—six miles -from here—on the top of the Schmalzberg. Lord!” he -grinned, “but that was a breather.”</p> - -<p>She brought him the pitcher of water but he only -rinsed his mouth.</p> - -<p>“How are you feelin’? Fit?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“Right-o. Come along. We’re off.”</p> - -<p>He went over to the prisoner and examined his bonds -carefully.</p> - -<p>“Poor old Udo!” he muttered in German. “I’ve got -to go. You might worry through those strings. It’s -the only way, because I’m not leaving any matches.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> - -<p>He leaned over and patted his cousin on the shoulder. -“Good-by, Udo,” he said. “We’ll meet again, -some day, as friends, my cousin—as friends.”</p> - -<p>Von Winden’s eyes met Hammersley’s and then he -lowered his head upon the balsam boughs.</p> - -<p>There was no time for amenities. Hammersley -slipped on his leather jacket and cap, fastening his belt -outside, reloaded his automatic, filled the pockets of -Doris’s coat with biscuit and chocolate, then made a -bundle of the tools and spare parts, which he selected -carefully, and in a moment he and Doris were outside -on the ridge, peering over toward the road below. All -was quiet, and they descended carefully to the projecting -rock, pausing there to listen again. The machine -of Wentz, which had been left near the crag, had -gone on toward Mittelwald. Hammersley smiled. The -plan had worked. It was working. They <em>must</em> succeed.</p> - -<p>Down in the bushes at the foot of the crag by the -road they paused again, listening, and then Hammersley -went forward, peering out, up and down the -road. Silence. Solitude. Leading the way, with the -hand of the girl in his, he quickly crossed and plunged -into the undergrowth silently until they had reached a -distance which would defy detection from the road. -Then Hammersley bore to the right and went on rapidly.</p> - -<p>Doris’s heart was beating high with excitement and -hope. The Yellow Dove! Could they reach the hangar -safely, and when there could they tune up undetected? -The success of the venture seemed impossible -for there must still be men on guard at Blaufelden—someone! -But as they went on through the wood, she -found some of the contagion of Cyril’s audacity. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -seemed tireless. When they reached a trail which led -in the desired direction, without speaking to her, he set -forward into a steady jog trot which put them well -upon their way. He turned around from time to time -and watched her, and when he saw that she was nearly -blown he slowed down to a walk and explained his plan.</p> - -<p>“Jolly flyin’ weather this. Once we’re in the air -they can’t stop us, Doris. She’s armored around the -cockpit and engines, and they haven’t anything heavier -than a rifle at Blaufelden. We’ll go up the Rhine to -the sea, flyin’ high. Then cut to the left along the -coast, as far as the French line, and then go in to -Ypres and from there to General French’s headquarters. -You can easily tell by the lines of trenches. I -want you to listen carefully. I’ve got two seats and -double control. The arrangement is just the same as -on your Nieuport, only she answers her control much -more slowly. The wheel is on a universal joint; the -gas, on your wheel, the spark to your left, the magneto, -a button in front of you. She starts by compressed -air.”</p> - -<p>“But the exhaust, Cyril,” she gasped, “before we -go—it’s only a few hundred yards from the shed to -the house!”</p> - -<p>“We’re going to risk that. With luck we’ll be -movin’ in three minutes, and then——” He paused -grimly.</p> - -<p>“And then——?”</p> - -<p>“I’d like to see a dozen stop us.”</p> - -<p>He had such perfect assurance that all doubt left -her. Indeed, to Doris, he seemed endowed with some -hidden fount of initiative and inspiration, and she was -willing to believe anything he told her. They went on -rapidly, while he answered all her questions and gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -her final instructions, until at last they reached a path, -the same, he told her, by which they had come from -the farm last night. They started up a frightened -deer, which fled away from them, but they didn’t pause -until the path cut sharply to the right and through -the bushes they could see the buildings of Blaufelden. -There they stopped and Hammersley went forward to -investigate.</p> - -<p>In the direction of the farmhouse was no sign of -animation except the thread of smoke that rose from -the kitchen chimney. The back of the hangar was just -in front of them, a bare wall of wood, a hundred and -fifty feet long. The opening was upon the other side, -to the west, a huge canvas flap, toggled at the bottom -to rings in the sill. Hammersley came back and whispered -to Doris to follow him. Until the starting of -the engine, this was the most hazardous part of the -proceeding, for, if they were seen from the house, there -would be no time for Hammersley to put the engines -in order. He led her south to a point in the woods -where the storehouse hid them from the main buildings, -when, crouching low to avoid possible detection from -the Windenberg road, they covered the fifty yards to -the storehouse and waited again, completely hidden -from all points except the forest behind them, while -Cyril looked around the edge of the building, and then -beckoned to her to follow. In a moment they had -slipped between the end of the canvas flap and the -door, and were within the dusky interior of the shed.</p> - -<p>Before them stretched the wide expanse of the Yellow -Dove, a huge biplane with a spread, as nearly as -Doris could figure it, of a hundred and twenty feet -from tip to tip. She stood before it in wonder and -awe, admiring its fine lines and sturdy appearance. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -dragon-fly her Nieuport was beside this great eagle of -the air. The other machine, an Etrich monoplane, -which was used by Udo von Winden, seemed lost in -the shadows of the larger wings. Doris stood quite -still, as Cyril had directed, while he moved off noiselessly -in the dim light. She saw him slipping from one -spot to another, quickly examining this and that, and -at last saw him climb up into the machine with his kit -of tools. She came nearer as he whispered down to -her:</p> - -<p>“They’ve taken out some plugs. I’ll have ’em in -shortly.” And then: “Go around the lower plane and -tell me if the guys are all taut.”</p> - -<p>She did as he asked, while she heard him above working -over the engines.</p> - -<p>“How long will it take?” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell—twenty minutes, perhaps. The petrol -tanks are empty, too.”</p> - -<p>“I want to help.”</p> - -<p>“Are the wires all fast?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Good. Then bring me the hose from the petrol -tank. It’s there beside you in the corner. You can -run it in while I’m workin’.”</p> - -<p>She did as she was bid, climbing up with a feeling of -exultation into the tall machine beside him.</p> - -<p>“The reserve tank first—” he whispered. “Up here -between the planes. Here’s a wrench. The opening is -on the top.”</p> - -<p>They worked side by side, noiselessly and efficiently, -Hammersley fitting the missing spark-plugs and connecting -a new coil wire which had been removed. He -looked over the machine carefully, but could find nothing -else missing, or even needing adjustment, for he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -had taken care yesterday morning, as was his custom, -to go over the engine with his own hands. The impairment -of the engine was of no serious consequence, and -intended only to delay. Von Stromberg had not -counted on such a chance for readjustment as this, or -upon Hammersley’s reserve supply of necessary material. -And unless they had done something else that -he could not discover—but what? While he worked -Hammersley tried to think, casting between times anxious -glances at the gears, the propellers and the control -wires. The reserve tank of petrol was filled and -the hose was steadily pouring the stuff into the one under -the forward cockpit, which was full by the time the -plugs and wires were all adjusted.</p> - -<p>“That will be enough, Doris,” he whispered. “We -only need to get to the English lines. There’s no time -for more.”</p> - -<p>She saw him try the wheel, watching the connecting -gear keenly, and, when he ordered it, she climbed down -into the rear seat. He gave her a leather coat, gloves -and helmet, and buckled her into her seat. Then, in -a state of nervous tension, they waited. She saw Cyril -climb down, coolly wiping his hands with a piece of -waste, restore the hose to its place, and then peer out -from a slit in the canvas door. Then he bent over, -and running quickly along the flap from side to side, -one after another quickly unfastened the toggles which -held it in place.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to chance it now,” he whispered up to -her. “If she doesn’t work—God help us——”</p> - -<p>“But the canvas——”</p> - -<p>“The machine will——”</p> - -<p>He stopped abruptly, for Doris’s eyes were staring -in panic at something behind him. Hammersley whirled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -quickly toward the slit in the canvas, his automatic in -his hand. There, not four paces away, blinking into -the dusk, stood the tall figure of His Excellency, General -Graf von Stromberg.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a><br /> -<small>FROM THE HEIGHTS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Hammersley had him covered, and the General -made no move to defend himself. He -bent his head and folded his arms, peering -into Hammersley’s eyes like a short-sighted man trying -to adjust his vision to an unaccustomed task. But his -frown relaxed almost immediately and his lips separated, -showing a gleam of teeth.</p> - -<p>“My compliments, Herr Hammersley,” he said. -“You have done well. It pleases me to meet at -last——”</p> - -<p>“Move your right hand again the fraction of an -inch and I will shoot, Excellenz,” said Hammersley, in -the sharp, quick accents of a resolute man.</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg only smiled more broadly. But he -did not move. He had seen enough of Herr Hammersley -to respect his sincerity.</p> - -<p>“I have staked my professional reputation upon -your presence elsewhere, Herr Hammersley. Instinct, -perhaps, led me here. I do not know what else. But -I came alone. I am not armed.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley was in no mood for trifling and time -was flying. Better to shoot the man and be done with -it, but he couldn’t, somehow. Instead he searched him -quickly for weapons.</p> - -<p>“You’re too late, Excellenz. I am sorry, but I have -no time for conversation.”</p> - -<p>“You will at least let me pay you the compliment of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -saying that the Prussian blood in you has made you -the most brilliant Englishman I have ever met.”</p> - -<p>“I have no time to match phrases with you——”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ach</i>, but you match what is much more important—a -genius for dissimulation. Yesterday you disappointed -me, Herr Hammersley, with your talk of plans—of -fortifications—of Strassburg. I had been hoping -that you were playing a deeper game, something that -would relieve the flat monotony of my routine. You -were to save me from utter boredom. It is true. I -had hoped that. I was disappointed when I thought -that you were like the others. Disappointed! I should -have known——”</p> - -<p>“And now that I have the papers—what are you going -to do about it?” asked Hammersley with a touch -of bravado.</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg shrugged.</p> - -<p>“I confess that I am so rapt in admiration of -your genius that I am at a loss—I must yield to the -inevitable. But I am happy in the knowledge that only -a person of the skill of Herr Hammersley could have -succeeded in outwitting the head of the Secret Service -Department of the Empire.”</p> - -<p>“Enough of this!” Hammersley broke in. “I should -kill you, General von Stromberg, but I won’t if you -obey me promptly. Stand aside—over there—against -the wall. If you move, I’ll shoot. I’m going out of -here.”</p> - -<p>Von Stromberg did as he was bidden, and his long -strides and erect carriage had lost none of their dignity. -When he reached the wall he turned with a smile. -Then he said suavely:</p> - -<p>“I fear, Herr Hammersley, that you will not go -forth as rapidly as you like.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> - -<p>Hammersley only laughed at him.</p> - -<p>“We’ll see about that.” He took a stride to the -canvas curtain and had a quick look outside. And -then to the girl: “Crank her, Doris! The compressed -air—the button to the left beside the wheel!”</p> - -<p>There was a long pause when Doris reached forward -in her seat. A pause filled with meanings for Hammersley, -in which his fate and hers, was hanging in the -balance. Von Stromberg seemed to read his thoughts, -and the wolfish smile spread again over his face.</p> - -<p>“It is just possible,” he said blandly, “that someone -may have been tinkering with the machinery.”</p> - -<p>There was another long silence—a moment of agony -for Hammersley.</p> - -<p>“Yes, <em>I</em> have,” roared Hammersley exultantly.</p> - -<p>For just then there was a violent explosion, deafening -in the enclosed space, like the roar of a giant -cracker would have been—another—and then more -rapidly another, followed by a number of concussions, -like a pack of giant crackers catching intermittently -and then in quick succession.</p> - -<p>General von Stromberg’s smile faded—then vanished -in a look of inefficacy and dismay. He was senile. -Hammersley’s grin derided him. Speech was impossible, -but the muzzle of the automatic was as eloquent as -before. One more explosion or six, for that matter, -would add little to the din. Von Stromberg’s life hung -by a hair at that moment and he knew it. Still covering -His Excellency, who was now glancing at the slit -in the curtain beside him, Hammersley climbed up to -the seat in front of Doris in the cockpit of the machine. -And just as he was putting a leg over, His -Excellency took a quick glance upward, which had in -it a world of expression—and bolted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> - -<p>Hammersley’s shot must have missed. He looked -around at Doris and laughed, and she saw the light of -triumph that rode in his eyes. The exhaust was roaring -steadily now, but with one hand on the wheel and -in the other his automatic, Hammersley sat motionless, -watching the slits in the canvas for the men that he -knew must come in a moment. At a gesture of his, -Doris sank low in the cockpit, her hands on the wheel, -watching, too, and ready to do her share as Cyril had -directed. One—two minutes passed—she seemed to -be counting the seconds. The body of the machine was -trembling as though with the excitement of the moment -and the explosions had blended into one continuous -roar. Cyril threw the clutch in and the note lowered -as the propellers began to whirr. The huge fabric -jumped forward, gathering momentum as it went, until -by the time it reached the canvas curtain in front of -it, it was going as fast as a man would run. The -weight of the heavy flap retarded it for a moment, but -it went steadily on, and the canvas was pushed outward—then -rose—it seemed to Doris like the curtain -on a melodrama. Men were running up, shooting as -they ran. They clutched at the toggles and swung off -their feet, falling in a heap upon the ground. She saw -a man, the only one not in uniform, take hold of the -lower plane and try to stop the momentum. It was -John Rizzio. She saw his face for a second, dark, -handsome, smiling. Cyril rose in his seat and their -weapons streamed fire. Rizzio moved backward with -the machine, still clinging to the lower plane, and then -disappeared, passing under it, just where the blades of -the right-hand propeller were.</p> - -<p>A slight shock and a shapeless mass went rolling -over and over until it brought up motionless against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> -the jamb of the door. Two other men, Foresters, -warned by Rizzio’s fate, sprang aside with horror in -their eyes. Doris sank lower in her seat, her cheeks -bloodless, grasping her wheel with icy hands, filled -with horror. Cyril had sunk down in his seat, clutching -at the side of the cockpit, his weapon falling from -his fingers. With an effort she steadied her hold on -the wheel. The canvas curtain had passed over their -heads. They were in the open. To the right, coming -from the Windenberg road, a machine filled with men -was dashing across the field before them at a diagonal -which would intercept them. She heard shots near at -hand. Cyril did not move. She had a glimpse of General -von Stromberg, who had snatched a pistol from -the hand of the nearest soldier and fired.</p> - -<p>They were moving fast. But the automobile in the -field before them seemed to be moving faster—Captain -Wentz and four men! She saw Cyril’s hand rise in -front of her, pointing to the left to avoid them, but -Wentz came on. The Yellow Dove was still running -on its wheels. She saw the danger. Wentz was aiming -at a collision. She pulled her wheel toward her instinctively -and the Yellow Dove rose, skimming the -ground. She felt it lifting, slowly, now rapidly. The -automobile seemed about to strike them. Another jerk -on the wheel and the skids of the Yellow Dove just -grazed the wind-shield of the machine, and a soldier -leaped into the air, trying to catch a hold, missed and -tumbled to the ground. In the car men were shouting -like demons, and a volley of pistol bullets pierced -the planes. She felt them strike the armored body, -but she sank lower, clutching her wheel.</p> - -<p>Clear? They must be. A second of agonized suspense -and she saw Cyril turn his head and look down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -behind them. His face was white but his eye flashed -triumph. His lips moved, but she heard nothing. -Safe? They must be. The Yellow Dove, mounting -easily, had cleared the trees at the border of the farm -and before the eyes of the girl stretched only undulating -surfaces of gray and green.</p> - -<p>In front of her Cyril lay back in his seat. His -hands clutched the sides of the cockpit. O God! She -had not been sure before what his sudden lassitude had -meant. He had been hit! John Rizzio! He turned -around and smiled at her and one hand, stretched before -him, pointed up and to the right. Her throat -closed and her heart seemed to stop its beating and -the Dove for a moment swung and tossed like a drunken -thing, but with an effort she inclined her wheel and met -it. Cyril again raised his fingers and pointed upwards. -Higher! She tipped the wheel further toward her. -His gesture was like an appeal to Heaven—a symbol -of his faith in her and in the God of both. She set her -lips and obeyed. Broken and helpless—perhaps dying, -he was putting his faith in her. She must not fail him -now.</p> - -<p>She kept her gaze before her over Cyril’s head, trying -to gain strength for what she had to do, thinking -that she was in England—at Ashwater Park—and that -the wheel she held was that of her own little Nieuport. -There seemed to be little difference between them, except -that the Yellow Dove was easier to manage. It -responded to the slightest touch, and had a magnificent -steadiness that reassured Doris as to her ability to do -the thing that was required of her.</p> - -<p>The mountains had fallen below them and the horizon -had widened until it blurred into the haze of the -distance. She looked down on what seemed to her a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -plain of purple velvet touched with lighter patches of -orange and violet. Before her the sun was setting -blood red in a sea of amber. She mounted above it into -the clear empyrean of azure, higher—higher yet. She -felt the exhilaration of large spaces, the joy of conquest -over all material things. Death even did not dismay -her—Cyril’s—her own. She seemed to have -crossed at a bound, from the realm of substance into -that of immateriality. Her soul already sang in accord -with the angels. They were mated. She and Cyril—mated! -And even Death should not separate -them.</p> - -<p>Dusk fell slowly below them, like a black giant striding -across the face of the earth, but all was still bright -and clear about her. The red ball of the sun would -not set. She was going upward—upward into the -realm of continuous and perfect day. Below her a -thread of silk, thrown carelessly upon a purple carpet. -The Rhine! She saw Cyril’s hand come up and move -feebly to the right. She turned slowly and followed -its direction. The Rhine—she remembered Cyril’s -words back there in the woods. She must follow the -Rhine to the sea and then turn to the westward along -the coast. She would do it. She must.</p> - -<p>Cyril was hurt—but perhaps not badly. His gestures -reassured her. He moved his hand in a level -line in front of him and she understood. They had -mounted high enough. The barograph showed four -thousand feet. She brought the wheel up to normal -and held it there. The wind burned her cheeks and she -knew from the changes in the river below her that the -speed of the Yellow Dove was terrific—ninety miles—a -hundred—a hundred and twenty—an hour—perhaps -much more—she did not know. The speed got into her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -blood. Faster, faster, was the song her pulses sung. -She was a part of the Yellow Dove now, and it was a -part of herself. Its wings were her wings and its instinct -was in her own fingertips.</p> - -<p>Night fell slowly, a luminous night full of stars. -She seemed to be hanging among them—to be one of -them—watching the earth pass under her. Two of -them gleamed like St. Elmo’s lights at the tips of the -planes. The sky was clear and bright, of a deep bluish -purple, like the skies she remembered high up on the -plains of the great West in her own country. The air -was bitter cold upon her face and she blessed Cyril’s -foresight for the helmet, gloves and old leather jacket -that he had put on her in the hangar. In front of her -Cyril leaned slightly to one side and his right hand -touched a button, throwing an electric light in a hood -in front of the wheel upon the face of the compass -and barograph. She glanced at them quickly—four -thousand feet—the direction north-northwest. She -longed to speak to him and shouted his name. But in -the roar of the engines she could not hear her own -voice.</p> - -<p>He still sat up, the fingers of his right hand moving -from time to time as he gave her the direction. She -thanked God for that—he was alive—he would live -until they reached Ypres. He <em>must</em> live. He <em>must</em>. -She set her teeth upon the words and <em>willed</em> it, praying -at last aloud with lips that screamed yet made no -sound.</p> - -<p>Below her moved the lights of a city. She did not -know what it was. Cologne, perhaps. She had passed -it yesterday morning in the train with John Rizzio. -Yesterday! It seemed a year ago. Cologne—then -Dusseldorf. The river was not difficult to follow. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -lost it once and then moving at a lower altitude she -found it quickly. But the old terror was gripping her -now. Cyril! His fingers no longer moved directing -her. He had sunk lower in his seat and his head had -fallen back upon one side, his face upturned to the -stars. Was he——?</p> - -<p>She put the thought from her. It was impossible. -She had prayed. Not that.... He had only fainted -from pain, from sickness. Not dead—she would not—could -not believe it. She longed to reach forward—to -let him feel her hand upon his neck—that he might -know her pity and her pain. It almost seemed better -that death should come to them both now than that he -should die and not know the comforting touch of her -hand. She leaned forward and one hand left the -wheel, but she lost her touch of the air and the planes -tipped drunkenly, threatening the destruction she -courted.</p> - -<p>The madness passed—and with its passing came a -calm, ice-cold. She was no longer a sentient being. -She was merely an instinct with wings, flying as the -eagle flies straight for its goal. She kept her glance -on the compass and followed the river. North-northwest. -The silver thread had become a ribbon now, reflecting -the starlight. She passed over other towns. -She could see their lights, but her gaze was fixed most -often on the distant horizon, where after a while she -would find the sea.</p> - -<p>A yellowish light, painting the under side of the -plane above her head, bewildered her. She could not -understand. It was like a reflection of a candle inside -a tent. Low as it was, it blinded her eyes, accustomed -to the soft light of the stars. There was a crash -nearby, in the very air beside her it seemed, a blinding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> -flash of light, and the Yellow Dove toppled sideways. -Instinctively she caught it, turning as she went -and rose higher—higher—as a bird flies at the sound -of a shot below. She knew now what it meant—a -searchlight! They were firing at her with the high-angle -guns. She had come fast, but the wire from -Windenberg had been faster. She put the light behind -her and long arms of light still groped for her, but she -rose still higher, five—six thousand feet her barograph -told her. Below, to her right, a small thing, shaped -like a dragon-fly, was spitting fire—to her left another, -but she sank lower in her seat laughing at them. -Something of Cyril’s joyous bravado possessed her. -She defied them, rising far above them—higher—seven -thousand feet—eight, until she could see them no -more.</p> - -<p>North-northwest! She found her course again and -flew on into the night. She had lost the river, but that -did not matter now. She knew that after a time—an -hour or more—she must come to the sea. And when -all signs of danger were gone she went down again -where she could more plainly see the earth. The moon -had come up and bathed the scene below with its soft -light, and far ahead of her she saw irregular streaks -of pale gray against long lines of purplish black. The -sea? She had lost all idea of time and distance. How -far the sea was from Windenberg she did not know, -and if she had known it, the passage of time was a -blank to her—a continuous roar, the music of the -spheres which took no thought of time or space. The -flight had lasted but a minute—and an eternity.</p> - -<p>To her left the gray streaks were nearer—west -by north her compass said, and she steered for them. -Soon she made out distinctly contours of large masses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -of gray against the black—water and land. The air -was milder and she sniffed the salt. She went down -to three thousand feet to get her bearings, ever watchful -for the dragon-flies and ready to soar again at the -first flash of a searchlight. She had already learned -to avoid the planes where the lights were grouped—the -colonies of glow-worms that here meant danger.</p> - -<p>Had she crossed the Belgian line? She had been to -Antwerp, to Brussels, and tried to remember what -they had looked like on the map. There was water -near Antwerp—she remembered that, inland bodies of -water which led to the sea. Now she could see beyond -the bodies of inland water to a wide expanse of gray -beyond the dark—uninterrupted gray—the ocean! -She bore to her left until her course was due west. A -searchlight flashed upon her for a second and was -gone. By the way the contours were changing she -knew that her speed was terrific. And slowly but more -and more certainly as she neared the sea, a problem -presented itself—her goal! Where was it, and how to -find it in the dark? Cyril had said that they must -land back of Ypres. But where was Ypres? Beyond -Ostend and inland—thirty—forty miles. She knew -that much from the war maps that she had pored over -with her father. But how to find it?</p> - -<p>She was over the sea now. The Yellow Dove felt a -new breeze and the wheel tugged under her hand, but -the machine lifted at the touch and wheeled like a gull -to speed down the coast. Ostend! The Kursaal! If -she could get a sight of it! It was dangerous, but she -must go lower—three—two hundred feet from the sea, -where she might make out familiar profiles against the -sky.</p> - -<p>The waves rose to meet her, reflecting the starlight,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -and just below her to the left the surf rolled in lines -of white upon the beach. Dunes, dunes interminably, -with here and there a collection of huts. A dark shape -moved in the water ahead of her, another—— Warships? -Destroyers. She wheeled out to sea and flew -above them, but before they had time even to get their -searchlights ranged upon her, the danger was past. -She would win now. The Yellow Dove was invincible.</p> - -<p>A dark irregular mass ahead of her rose above the -monotony of dunes, buildings, and a bulk she seemed -to recognize—a round dome iridescent like a soap -bubble in the moonlight. The Kursaal! Ostend! She -was nearing her destination—the end of the German -lines. Friends were near—Belgians, French, and English. -Twenty—thirty miles beyond Ostend and then -inland somewhere back of Ypres she would find the -English. The English lines were thirty or forty miles -long, she remembered. It should not be difficult to find -them. She must be sure to go far enough—but not -too far—not to where the French army joined the -British forces. Cyril’s papers must go to the English, -to General French himself. He had said so.</p> - -<p>She had no way of judging distance except by the -passage of the minutes. At the speed she was flying -she must turn inland in fifteen minutes. She had no -watch and she tried counting the seconds. She had -counted sixty—four times—when a battery hidden -among the dunes along the shore opened fire on her. -She was half a mile from shore, flying low, but the flash -of light startled her and the shell burst beyond. She -rose quickly, moving further out to sea, frightened, but -still self-possessed. It would not do to fail now with -the goal in sight.</p> - -<p>The compass gave her course southwest by west.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -She counted again, guessing at the time she had lost, -and then, making a wide spiral out to sea and rising to -three thousand feet, she drove the Yellow Dove inland. -Searchlights were turned on her and shots fired, but -she went higher, trying to make out if she could the -lines of the opposing armies. Red and yellow lights -were displayed below to her left, and far to her right -were tiny clusters of lights, but there seemed to be no -order in their arrangement—no lines that she could -distinguish even at this height. Her keen eyes, now -inured to the darkness, made out a monoplane against -the starlight ahead of her—but she swerved to the -right, the greater power of the Yellow Dove enabling -her to rise and elude it. She flew for what seemed ten -or fifteen minutes, going steadily to the south and west, -when she drove for a spot where there were no lights -and then shut off the throttle and dove.</p> - -<p>She knew that this was perhaps the greatest moment -of her great adventure. A landing place in the -dark in a country she did not know, where a church -steeple, a telegraph wire, the limb of a tree, would -bring her and her precious freight to disaster. With -the sudden shutting off of the power, a silence that -bewildered her, a silence broken only by the whirr of -the wind against the planes. Her ears ached from the -change of pressure in her swift descent. She eased -her wheel back gently, trying to make out objects below. -Dark patches—woods—to be avoided, the roof -of a house—another—lights here and there, small, obscure, -which she had not seen. She avoided them all, -planing down in a spiral toward what seemed to be -unobstructed space.</p> - -<p>She breathed a prayer as the earth came up to meet -her. Death——? Whatever came—Cyril, too....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> -She stared straight before her, feeling out the wind -pressure on the planes, gliding as near the horizontal -as she dared. An open field! Thank God! A gentle -shock and the springs responded. The Yellow Dove -rebounded slightly and ran along the ground smoothly -upon its wheels—then stopped. She tried to get up, -but could not. Her hands seemed fastened to the -wheel. She heard the sound of men’s voices shouting -and saw lights, but she could not seem to make a sound. -She was shivering violently, also laughing a little, but -she had no sense of being cold. She seemed very weak -somehow, and very helpless. And then, just as the -lights grew brighter—they went out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a><br /> -<small>HEADQUARTERS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">“A woman!” she heard a man’s voice say at her -ear. She was lying upon the ground, and -strange faces were bending over her. “Well, -I’m damned!”</p> - -<p>English!</p> - -<p>“And the other?” she heard again. “Dead as a -’errin’!”</p> - -<p>Doris sat up, staring at them wildly.</p> - -<p>“Wait! There’s a flutter ’ere yet.” She heard the -other man say. “Come, Bill. Let’s have ’im over to -the ’ouse.”</p> - -<p>Doris managed to find a whisper. “A surgeon—for -<em>him</em>,” she said to the man supporting her. “He will -not die. He is only wounded.”</p> - -<p>It was her obsession. It would not leave her.</p> - -<p>She saw them carrying Cyril toward the house, and -when they wanted to take her, too, she said that she -would walk. Though deathly weak, she managed to -reach the house where they had carried Cyril. They -gave her a drink of something and she revived.</p> - -<p>It was a Red Cross station, they told her, and the -doctor would be here in a moment. But in the meanwhile -first aid was administered, and at her place at his -bedside she saw Cyril struggling faintly back to life.</p> - -<p>“He will not die,” she repeated quietly when the surgeon -had examined him gravely.</p> - -<p>“I hope not—but he’s bled a good deal. We’ll see.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> - -<p>They cut away his coat and wanted to send her -away, but she pleaded to remain and in a moment she -heard Cyril’s voice whispering hoarsely—“Papers—coat -pocket—Sir John French.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said the surgeon cheerfully. “We’ll see -to that.”</p> - -<p>“Doris.”</p> - -<p>“Here, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“Rippin’ fine—of you—no mistake—old girl——”</p> - -<p>His whisper trailed off into silence and at the surgeon’s -orders they led her away from his cot, but she -would not leave the room until she got the papers out -of the pocket of his jacket. An orderly led her to a -young officer with his arm in a sling who sat at a table -in another part of the building. He listened to her -story attentively and read the documents carefully, his -lips as he read emitting a thin whistle. He glanced -at his watch and for a moment left the room.</p> - -<p>“It is arranged. You shall go,” he said when he -came back. “A machine will be here in a moment.” -He paused, examining her doubtfully. She was spattered -with grease and oil, but the pallor of her face beneath -its grime showed that her strength was near its -end. “Wouldn’t you trust those dispatches to me? -It’s ten miles to headquarters and rough.”</p> - -<p>“No—no, I will go. I promised.”</p> - -<p>But he ordered some hot coffee and bread, and thus -fortified, when the motor came around she was driven -upon her way. The young officer sat beside her, eagerly -listening, while she gave him a brief outline of their -adventures.</p> - -<p>“Amazin’!” he said from time to time. “Most -amazin’!”</p> - -<p>And then as she went on, he said quietly:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re goin’ on your nerve, I think. Better save -your strength until we get to headquarters. It isn’t -far now.”</p> - -<p>She tried to keep silent, but it seemed as though she -must go on talking. That seemed to give her strength -to complete her task, for when she sank back in her -seat and tried to relax she only grew weak thinking of -Cyril lying back there, hovering between life and death. -And then she heard herself saying aloud, “He will not -die. He has gone through too much to die now.”</p> - -<p>The man beside her glanced down at her and smiled -gently.</p> - -<p>“No, he isn’t going to die. Bullets don’t kill nowadays—unless -they kill at once.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes,” she assented. “That’s it. If he had -been going to die, he would have been dead now, -wouldn’t he?”</p> - -<p>She laid her hand eagerly on the young officer’s arm -and he put his hand over hers.</p> - -<p>“Palmerston is the best surgeon along this part of -the line. He’ll pull him through. Don’t you worry.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t—I’ll try not to—you’re awfully kind. -Would you mind telling me your name?”</p> - -<p>“Jackson. Second Leinster Dragoons. And yours?”</p> - -<p>“Mather—Doris Mather. I—I don’t want to forget -your name. You’ve been very good to understand -everything so perfectly.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s nothing. There are reasons—I’m on Headquarters -Staff, you know.”</p> - -<p>That was one reason. But another one was that -there was a girl at home just as much worried over -his wound as Miss Mather was over Hammersley’s.</p> - -<p>They passed from the rough roads between gates -into a smoother one which was bordered with poplars.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> -At the end in front of her she saw lights and reached a -doorway, where an orderly opened the door of the machine -and saluted her companion. Their arrival, it -seemed, was expected. Captain Jackson took her by -the arm and led her indoors, for her courage or her -nerves seemed to be failing her again, down a quiet -hall into a room where an officer with a gray mustache -sat before a lighted lamp at a table covered with papers. -She recognized him at once from the many portraits -that had appeared in the weekly papers. He -spoke to her and she tried to reply, but she could not. -She seemed only to have strength enough to thrust the -papers forward into his hand, when her knees gave way -under her and she sank in a heap upon the floor.</p> - -<p>Gentle hands lifted her and laid her upon a couch in -the corner of the room. She tried to get up, but could -not. She heard the voices of the officers in the room -as from a great distance, and then a woman came and -two men carried her upstairs and put her to bed. She -realized that she was talking incoherently of Cyril, of -the Yellow Dove. They gave her something to drink -and her nerves grew mysteriously quiet. She seemed -to be sailing smoothly through the air—higher, higher—Cyril’s -fingers were pointing upward. She was tipping -the wheel toward her—ever toward her, and they -rose higher. They had reached the region of continuous -and perfect day. Cyril turned his head and -looked at her, and then he smiled.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was broad daylight when she awoke, for the sunshine -was streaming in at the window. A woman sat -near her, knitting. She was an old woman of many -wrinkles, kindly wrinkles which seemed to vie with one -another to express placidity. As Doris rose in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -bed the old woman rose, too, and came forward briskly, -speaking in French.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Mademoiselle is awake. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Bon.</i> She is feeling -better?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, better—but a little tired.” And then, as she -realized where she was, “Could you tell me——? General -French—could I see him?”</p> - -<p>“All is well, mademoiselle. Monsieur le General—he -is not here now. But he will be back after a while. He -will see you, then, but first it is proper that you have -breakfast and a bath. Mademoiselle needs a bath—I -think.”</p> - -<p>Doris glanced at her hand, which lay upon the white -coverlid. It was black. “Yes, I will bathe. But first -will you tell me——?”</p> - -<p>The old woman smiled as she interrupted, “I was to -tell you that Monsieur yonder is better. That is what -Mademoiselle wished to know, is it not?”</p> - -<p>Doris sank back upon her pillow in a silence which -gave the full measure of her joy. Cyril would recover. -She had been sure of it. She had told them last night. -God was good.</p> - -<p>The news gave her strength, and the coffee and eggs -that were brought revived her rapidly. Her nerves -still trembled in memory of what they had passed -through, but when she was bathed and dressed in clean -linen garments, much too large for her, a surgeon -brought her medicine, and what was better than medicine, -news that Cyril was conscious and was asking for her.</p> - -<p>But they would not let her go to him. Tomorrow -perhaps. Meanwhile the doctor would be glad to take -a message. Doris colored gently. The message that -she would have liked to send was not to be transmitted -by this means.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tell him,” she said at last quietly, “that I am well—and -that I will see him when I have permission to -do so.”</p> - -<p>The officer smiled, gave some directions to the old -woman and went out.</p> - -<p>It was not until late in the afternoon, when dressed -in her own garments, which had been carefully cleansed -and brushed by her nurse, that she was admitted -to the office of the Field Marshal. She was shown -into his room and he greeted her with unmistakable -cordiality, offering her the chair next his own and congratulating -her warmly upon the success of her achievement -and Cyril’s.</p> - -<p>“You know,” he asked quietly, “the contents of these -documents?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Their importance made it necessary that I -should.”</p> - -<p>“Then of course you realize the necessity for the -utmost secrecy?”</p> - -<p>“I do.”</p> - -<p>The General smiled at her and brought forward a -copy of a recent issue of the London <cite>Times</cite>.</p> - -<p>“Did you know that for the past three days England -has actually stopped criticizing me to talk about you?”</p> - -<p>“About <em>me</em>?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, read,” he said smiling, and she took the paper -from him, skimming the headings of a news item he -pointed out to her:</p> - -<p class="noic">MISS MATHER STILL MISSING.</p> - -<p class="noic">MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE STILL UNACCOUNTED -FOR.</p> - -<p class="noic">LADY HEATHCOTE TELLS STRANGE STORY.</p> - -<p class="noic">JOHN RIZZIO, THE FAMOUS COLLECTOR, A GERMAN -SPY.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> - -<p>And then in the news item below:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Allison Mather, of Ashwater Park, believing that his -daughter is still alive, today offered a reward of five -thousand pounds to anyone——</p></div> - -<p>She stopped reading and put the paper down.</p> - -<p>“Poor Daddy!” she whispered. “O Sir John, will you -let him know——?”</p> - -<p>“I have already done so, child. He knows that you -are safe.” And then with a laugh, “The five thousand -pounds—I think are mine. I need a new hospital -corps.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, he’ll give it, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>“You promise?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>He took her hand and rose in the act of dismissal. -“We have supper at six. I hope you will be able to -join us.”</p> - -<p>“But, General——” She paused at the door.</p> - -<p>He smiled at her softly.</p> - -<p>“If all goes well—you shall see him tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>She colored prettily. Everyone seemed to know, but -she didn’t care. The world, in spite of its terrors, was -a garden of roses to Doris.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She did not see Cyril the next day or the one following. -His temperature had risen, and while the danger -of a relapse was not acute, they thought it safer that -she be kept away. She had worried, fearing the worst, -but the frankness of the head surgeon reassured her. -The bullet had drilled through him, just scraping the -lung. He would recover. But why take a chance of -complication when all was going well? There was no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -reply to that, so Doris waited at headquarters, thankful -and trying to be patient, sending two penciled -scrawls which were delivered to the wounded man.</p> - -<p>It was not until three days later that she received -word that she would be permitted to see him. His cot -had been carried into a small room at the front of the -building, and she entered it timidly, the nurse, with a -smile and a glance at her watch, both of which were eloquent, -withdrawing. He was propped up on pillows, -and though pale from the loss of blood, greeted her -with his old careless smile. She sank into the chair -by the side of the bed and caught his hand to her -lips.</p> - -<p>“O Cyril,” she murmured. “Cyril, I’m so glad. But -I knew you wouldn’t die—you couldn’t after getting -safely through everything else.”</p> - -<p>“Die! Well, hardly. I’m right as rain. Jolly close -shootin’ that of Rizzio’s, though. Pity he had to go—that -way.”</p> - -<p>She hid her face in her hands.</p> - -<p>“Don’t! Let’s forget him.” And then, “Have you -suffered much?”</p> - -<p>“No. The bally thing burns a bit now and then—but -the worst of it is, they won’t let a chap smoke.”</p> - -<p>She laughed and he caught her hand closer.</p> - -<p>“How did you do it, Doris? How did you?” he -questioned.</p> - -<p>“I had to, Cyril,” she said. “It wasn’t anything—except -knowing where to come down. That bothered -me. I guessed at Ypres. The rest was luck.”</p> - -<p>“More than luck, old girl. Just courage and intelligence. -I felt myself failin’, up there, but I saw you -knew your way about and then I—I seemed to go to -sleep. Silly of me, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Silly! You fainted, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“Rotten time to faint.”</p> - -<p>“You might have died up there. Once I thought you -had died. Oh, that dreadful moment! I wanted to go, -too—with you. I was a little mad, I think. I wanted -to take you in my arms and go with you—down—down. -My hands even left the wheel. The Yellow Dove toppled—but -I caught her.”</p> - -<p>“Poor child!”</p> - -<p>“After that I seemed to grow all cold with reason -and skill. I forgot you. I looked beyond, over -your poor head. I had to succeed, Cyril—that was -all.”</p> - -<p>His hand pressed hers tenderly.</p> - -<p>“You’re the only girl in the world who could do it. -I’m glad—proud——” He broke off. “My word, -Doris! There’s no use tryin’ to tell you what I think -of you. I’m no good at that sort of thing.”</p> - -<p>“I understand. You’re just—yourself. That’s -enough for me.”</p> - -<p>“You were a trump up there in the Thorwald—to -stay with poor old Udo, but I had to go. It was the -only way. I never thought we’d make it.”</p> - -<p>“But we did.”</p> - -<p>“<em>You</em> did. It was the Dove, Doris—the good old -Dove. Isn’t she a ripper?”</p> - -<p>“I never had a fear—once she rose. How did you -happen——”</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“It was to be a surprise. I’d been workin’ on her -for a year—tryin’ her out on the moors. Nobody -knew—until the war came—and then I told Udo, who -told von Stromberg. I tried a flight to Windenberg and -made it comfortably. Awf’ly easy thing. I stayed at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> -Windenberg in October, flyin’ over the English lines, -droppin’ bombs.”</p> - -<p>“That was where you were——!”</p> - -<p>“But I never hit anythin’. Wouldn’t do, you know. -Then when I came back I told the War Office. They -sent me for the papers. You know the rest.”</p> - -<p>“O Cyril, I’m so glad it’s all over. You’ll go to -England now and rest.”</p> - -<p>“For a while.” And then, “Will you marry me, -Doris? Soon?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said softly. “Whenever you want me.”</p> - -<p>“Here? Now?”</p> - -<p>“But, Cyril——”</p> - -<p>“There’s a parson chap about here somewhere. I -saw him browsin’ in here the other day.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it a little——”</p> - -<p>“Say you will, there’s a dear.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, if you wish it. But——”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Clothes.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense. You’re jolly handsome in those togs—handsome -no end,” he repeated. “Marry me tomorrow, -Doris. There’s a dear.”</p> - -<p>She leaned her face down upon his hand.</p> - -<p>“We’re already married, Cyril. Up there I felt it. -Even death couldn’t have separated us.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God! Kiss me, Doris.” She obeyed.</p> - -<p>“I’ll see Jackson,” he whispered. “He’ll manage it. -Resourceful chap, Jackson. He’ll get us a chaplain -like pullin’ a rabbit out of a hat.”</p> - -<p>She laughed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose I’d ever have known you, Cyril, -over there in England. You always did wonderful -things carelessly, Cyril.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But not this wonderful thing——” and he kissed -her.</p> - -<p>“It is a wonderful thing,” she whispered. “So wonderful -that I wonder if it can be true.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll prove it to you——”</p> - -<p>But she had straightened and kissed his hand.</p> - -<p>“No more now—I mustn’t stay. I hear them in the -hall.”</p> - -<p>“Tomorrow?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Jackson?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>The nurse knocked discreetly and entered. “Five -minutes. I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>“So am I,” said Hammersley, with a sigh.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Three weeks later they stood side by side at the rail -of the Channel boat on the way to Ashwater Park for -the parental blessing. The shores of France were already -purple in the distance. They had looked upon -Death with eyes that did not fear, but the sight of it -together had made the bond of their fealty and tenderness -the stronger. There was a sadness in his look and -she knew instinctively of what he was thinking.</p> - -<p>“Germany, Cyril,” she said aloud. “I love it because -a part of it is you. But I love England more, because -it <em>is</em> you.”</p> - -<p>Hammersley watched the receding shores beyond the -vessel’s wake, her hand in his.</p> - -<p>“They’re followin’ false gods, Doris. Gods of steel -and brass——!”</p> - -<p>“They <em>must</em> fall, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“They will.” And then, “But you can’t help admirin’ -the beggars! Poor old Udo!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I think about him, Cyril. Do you think he got -away?”</p> - -<p>“Well, rather! I cut his bonds with a huntin’ knife -before we went down.”</p> - -<p>She looked up into his face in amazement. “You -dared do that?” He laughed.</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t have let him be more generous than -me.”</p> - -<p>“And he let us go?”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t think we <em>could</em> go. He left things to Destiny.”</p> - -<p>“Good old Udo!” she repeated. And then dreamily, -“Destiny! You were not meant to die, Cyril.”</p> - -<p>“Not yet.” He said slowly: “But I must go back—over -there, Doris.”</p> - -<p>She shivered a little and drew closer to him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” she said. “But you’ve earned——”</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t ever earn what I’ve got,” he broke in -quickly.</p> - -<p>“Nor I——”</p> - -<p>“I’m not much of a chap at pretty speeches and all -that sort of thing, but you’re a rare one, you know, -the rummiest sort of a rare one—the kind a chap -dreams about but never gets—and yet I’ve got you— -Oh, hang it all, Doris,” he broke off helplessly. “You -know——”</p> - -<p>She smiled at him and slipped her arm through his.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Good old Doris,” he muttered. “Silly ass, aren’t -I?”</p> - -<p>But she wouldn’t admit that.</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">FOUR TIMELY BOOKS OF<br /> -INTERNATIONAL IMPORTANCE</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi adauthor">I ACCUSE (<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">J’ACCUSE!</i>) By a German. A Scathing -Arraignment of the German War Policy.</p> - -<p>At this vital time in the nation’s history every patriotic American -should read and reread this wonderful book and learn the absurdity -of the German excuse that they wanted a “Place in the Sun.”</p> - -<p>Learn how the German masses were deluded with the idea that -they were making a defensive war to protect the Fatherland.</p> - -<p>Let the author of this illuminating book again show the sacrilege -of claiming a Christian God as a Teutonic ally and riddle once more -the divine right of kings.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi adauthor">PAN-GERMANISM. By Roland G. Usher.</p> - -<p>The clear, graphic style gives it a popular appeal that sets it miles -apart from the ordinary treatise, and for the reader who wishes to -get a rapid focus on the world events of the present, perhaps no -book written will be more interesting.</p> - -<p>It is the only existing forecast of exactly the present development -of events in Europe. It is, besides, a brisk, clear, almost primer-like -reduction of the complex history of Europe during the last forty -years to a simple, connected story clear enough to the most casual -reader.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi adauthor">THE CHALLENGE OF THE FUTURE. By Roland -G. Usher.</p> - -<p>A glance into America’s future by the man who, in his book PAN-GERMANISM, -foretold with such amazing accuracy the coming of -the present European events. An exceedingly live and timely book -that is bound to be read and discussed widely because it strikes to -the heart of American problems, and more especially because it hits -right and left at ideas that have become deep-seated convictions in -many American minds.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi adauthor">THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE. By James M. -Beck, LL.D., Formerly Assistant Attorney-General -of the United States, Author of the “War and Humanity.” -With an Introduction by the Hon. Joseph -H. Choate, Late U. S. Ambassador to Great Britain.</p> - -<p>No work on the War has made a deeper impression throughout -the world than “The Evidence in the Case,” a calm, dispassionate, -but forceful discussion of the moral responsibility for the present -war as disclosed by the diplomatic papers. Arnold Bennett says that -it “is certainly by far <em>the most convincing indictment of Germany</em> in -existence.”</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">JACK LONDON’S NOVELS</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">JOHN BARLEYCORN.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by H. T. Dunn.</p> - -<p>This remarkable book is a record of the author’s own amazing -experiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted -with alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John -Barleycorn. It is a string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully -conveys an unforgetable idea and makes a typical Jack London book.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE VALLEY OF THE MOON.</p> - -<p class="noi">Frontispiece by George Harper.</p> - -<p>The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster -and ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and -love and marry. They tramp from one end of California to the -other, and in the Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is -to be their salvation.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BURNING DAYLIGHT.</p> - -<p class="noi">Four illustrations.</p> - -<p>The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the -foundations of his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing -his fortunes to the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money -kings, and recovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts -out as a merciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to -drinking and becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time -he falls in love with his stenographer and wins her heart but not -her hand and then—but read the story!</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A SON OF THE SUN.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley.</p> - -<p>David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came -from England to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned -like a native and as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. -The life appealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE CALL OF THE WILD.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles Livingston Bull.</p> - -<p class="noi">Decorations by Charles E. Hooper.</p> - -<p>A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man’s exploits -could be. Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque -color to transport the reader to primitive scenes.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE SEA WOLF.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by W. J. Aylward.</p> - -<p>Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious -life into the power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A -novel of adventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every -reader will hail with delight.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">WHITE FANG.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull.</p> - -<p>“White Fang” is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the -frozen north; he gradually comes under the spell of man’s companionship, -and surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. -Thereafter he is man’s loving slave.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adauthor">NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY</p> - -<p class="noic adtitle">WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE</p> - -<p class="noic">HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED.</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">MAVERICKS.</p> - -<p>A tale of the western frontier, where the “rustler,” whose depredations -are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, -abounds. One of the sweetest love stories ever told.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A TEXAS RANGER.</p> - -<p>How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried -law into the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series -of thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then -passed through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">WYOMING.</p> - -<p>In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured -the breezy charm of “cattleland,” and brings out the turbid life of -the frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.</p> - -<p>The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics -and mining industries are the religion of the country. The -political contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give -this story great strength and charm.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BUCKY O’CONNOR.</p> - -<p>Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete -with the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash -and absorbing fascination of style and plot.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.</p> - -<p>A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of -a bitter feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine -is a most unusual woman and her love story reaches a culmination -that is fittingly characteristic of the great free West.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BRAND BLOTTERS.</p> - -<p>A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid -life of the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming -love interest running through its 320 pages.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">ZANE GREY’S NOVELS</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS</p> - -<p class="noi">Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton.</p> - -<p>Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent -Mexican border of the present day. A New York society girl buys -a ranch which becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal -cowboys defend her property from bandits, and her superintendent -rescues her when she is captured by them. A surprising climax -brings the story to a delightful close.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">DESERT GOLD</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Douglas Duer.</p> - -<p>Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, -lost in the desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they -can go no farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising -along the border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the -two prospectors had willed to the girl who is the story’s heroine.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Douglas Duer.</p> - -<p>A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when -Mormon authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane Withersteen, a -rich ranch owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by -the invisible hand of the Mormon Church to break her will.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated with photograph reproductions.</p> - -<p>This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo -Jones, known as the preserver of the American bison, across the -Arizona desert and of a hunt in “that wonderful country of yellow -crags, deep cañons and giant pines.” It is a fascinating story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT</p> - -<p class="noi">Jacket in color. Frontispiece.</p> - -<p>This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A -lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a -young New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands -that the girl shall become the second wife of one of the Mormons—</p> - -<p>Well, that’s the problem of this sensational, big selling story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BETTY ZANE</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Louis F. Grant.</p> - -<p>This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful -young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. -Life along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty’s heroic defense -of the beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, -and Betty’s final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adauthor">STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY</p> - -<p class="noic adtitle">GENE STRATTON-PORTER</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/image05.jpg" width="150" height="199" - alt="LADDIE." title="LADDIE." /> -</div> - -<p class="p2 noi">LADDIE.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.</p> - -<p>This is a bright, cheery tale with the -scenes laid in Indiana. The story is told -by Little Sister, the youngest member of -a large family, but it is concerned not so -much with childish doings as with the love -affairs of older members of the family. -Chief among them is that of Laddie, the -older brother whom Little Sister adores, -and the Princess, an English girl who has -come to live in the neighborhood and about -whose family there hangs a mystery. -There is a wedding midway in the book -and a double wedding at the close.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE HARVESTER.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.</p> - -<p>“The Harvester,” David Langston, is a man of the woods and -fields, who draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother -Nature herself. If the book had nothing in it but the splendid figure -of this man it would be notable. But when the Girl comes to his -“Medicine Woods,” and the Harvester’s whole being realizes that -this is the highest point of life which has come to him—there begins -a romance of the rarest idyllic quality.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">FRECKLES.</p> - -<p class="noi">Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford.</p> - -<p>Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in -which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the -great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets -him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his -love-story with “The Angel” are full of real sentiment.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.</p> - -<p>The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable -type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and -kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the -sheer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from -barren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp.</p> - -<p>The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. -The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing -love. The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of -nature, and its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">JOHN FOX, JR’S.</p> - -<p class="noic adauthor">STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/image06.jpg" width="150" height="214" - alt="THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE." - title="THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE." /> -</div> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>The “lonesome pine” from which the -story takes its name was a tall tree that -stood in solitary splendor on a mountain -top. The fame of the pine lured a young -engineer through Kentucky to catch the -trail, and when he finally climbed to its -shelter he found not only the pine but the -<em>foot-prints of a girl</em>. And the girl proved -to be lovely, piquant, and the trail of -these girlish foot-prints led the young -engineer a madder chase than “the trail -of the lonesome pine.”</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as “Kingdom -Come.” It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural -and honest, from which often springs the flower of civilization.</p> - -<p>“Chad.” the “little shepherd” did not know who he was nor -whence he came—he had just wandered from door to door since -early childhood, seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who -gladly fathered and mothered this waif about whom there was -such a mystery—a charming waif, by the way, who could play -the banjo better that anyone else in the mountains.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, -the lair of moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner’s -son, and the heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened -“The Blight.” Two impetuous young Southerners fall -under the spell of “The Blight’s” charms and she learns what -a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the -mountaineers.</p> - -<p>Included in this volume is “Hell fer-Sartain” and other -stories, some of Mr. Fox’s most entertaining Cumberland valley -narratives.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West</span> 26th <span class="smcap">St., New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE, By Jean Webster.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by C. D. Williams.</p> - -<p>One of the best stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been -written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable -and thoroughly human.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">JUST PATTY, By Jean Webster.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.</p> - -<p>Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious -mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which -is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL, By Eleanor Gates.</p> - -<p class="noi">With four full page illustrations.</p> - -<p>This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate children -whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess, -seldom seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tenderness. -A charming play as dramatized by the author.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.</p> - -<p>One of the most beautiful studies of childhood—Rebecca’s artistic, -unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of -austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a phenomenal -dramatic record.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>Additional episodes in the girlhood of this delightful heroine that -carry Rebecca through various stages to her eighteenth birthday.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">REBECCA MARY, By Annie Hamilton Donnell.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.</p> - -<p>This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque -little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a pathos -that is peculiarly genuine and appealing.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">EMMY LOU: Her Book and Heart, By George Madden Martin.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Charles Louis Hinton.</p> - -<p>Emmy Lou is irresistibly lovable, because she is so absolutely real. -She is just a bewitchingly innocent, huggable little maid. The book is -wonderfully human.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West</span> 26th <span class="smcap">St., New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">MYRTLE REED’S NOVELS</p> - -<p class="noic">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/image07.jpg" width="150" height="207" - alt="LAVENDER AND OLD LACE." title="LAVENDER AND OLD LACE." /> -</div> - -<p class="p2 noi">LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.</p> - -<p>A charming story of a quaint corner of -New England where bygone romance finds a -modern parallel. The story centers round -the coming of love to the young people on -the staff of a newspaper—and it is one of the -prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old fashioned -love stories, * * * a rare book, exquisite -in spirit and conception, full of -delicate fancy, of tenderness, of delightful -humor and spontaneity.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A SPINNER IN THE SUN.</p> - -<p>Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story -in which poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a -clever and entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she -always displays a quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of -pathos which give a touch of active realism to all her writings. In -“A Spinner in the Sun” she tells an old-fashioned love story, of a -veiled lady who lives in solitude and whose features her neighbors -have never seen. There is a mystery at the heart of the book that -throws over it the glamour of romance.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE MASTER’S VIOLIN.</p> - -<p>A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German -virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine “Cremona.” He -consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have -an aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth -has led the happy, careless life of a modern, well-to-do young American -and he cannot, with his meagre past, express the love, the passion -and the tragedies of life and all its happy phases as can the master -who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his life—a -beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her -heart and home, and through his passionate love for her, he learns -the lessons that life has to give—and his soul awakes.</p> - -<p>Founded on a fact that all artists realize.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West</span> 26th <span class="smcap">St., New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adtitle">B. M. Bower’s Novels</p> - -<p class="noic adauthor">Thrilling Western Romances</p> - -<p class="noic">Large 12 mos. Handsomely bound in cloth. Illustrated</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">CHIP, OF THE FLYING U</p> - -<p>A breezy wholesome tale, wherein the love affairs of Chip and -Della Whitman are charmingly and humorously told. Chip’s -jealousy of Dr. Cecil Grantham, who turns out to be a big, blue -eyed young woman is very amusing. A clever, realistic story of -the American Cow-puncher.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE HAPPY FAMILY</p> - -<p>A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventures of -eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys. Foremost amongst -them, we find Ananias Green, known as Andy, whose imaginative -powers cause many lively and exciting adventures.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT</p> - -<p>A realistic story of the plains, describing a gay party of Easterners -who exchange a cottage at Newport for the rough homeliness -of a Montana ranch-house. The merry-hearted cowboys, the -fascinating Beatrice, and the effusive Sir Redmond, become living, -breathing personalities.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RANGE DWELLERS</p> - -<p>Here are everyday, genuine cowboys, just as they really exist. -Spirited action, a range feud between two families, and a Romeo -and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly, entertaining story, -without a dull page.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LURE OF DIM TRAILS</p> - -<p>A vivid portrayal of the experience of an Eastern author, -among the cowboys of the West, in search of “local color” for a -new novel. “Bud” Thurston learns many a lesson while following -“the lure of the dim trails” but the hardest, and probably the most -welcome, is that of love.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LONESOME TRAIL</p> - -<p>“Weary” Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where conventional -city life palls on him. A little branch of sage brush, -pungent with the atmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection of -a pair of large brown eyes soon compel his return. A wholesome -love story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LONG SHADOW</p> - -<p>A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free, outdoor, -life of a mountain ranch. Its scenes shift rapidly and its actors play -the game of life fearlessly and like men. It is a fine love story from -start to finish.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic">Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</p> - -<p class="noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic adauthor">THE NOVELS OF</p> - -<p class="noic adtitle">STEWART EDWARD WHITE</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RULES OF THE GAME.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller.</p> - -<p>The romance of the son of “The Riverman.” The young college -hero goes into the lumber camp, is antagonized by “graft” and comes -into the romance of his life.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">ARIZONA NIGHTS.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth.</p> - -<p>A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life -of the ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE BLAZED TRAIL.</p> - -<p class="noi">With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty.</p> - -<p>A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young -man who blazed his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan -pines.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE CLAIM JUMPERS. A Romance.</p> - -<p>The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the -Black Hills has a hard time of it, but “wins out” in more ways than -one.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">CONJUROR’S HOUSE.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated Theatrical Edition.</p> - -<p class="noi">Dramatized under the title of “The Call of the North.”</p> - -<p>“Conjuror’s House” is a Hudson Bay trading post where the -head factor is the absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and -won a bride on this forbidden land.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE MAGIC FOREST. A Modern Fairy Tale.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated.</p> - -<p>The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and -their life is treated could only belong to one who is in love with the -forest and open air. Based on fact.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RIVERMAN.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood.</p> - -<p>The story of a man’s fight against a river and of a struggle -between honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and -shrewdness on the other.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE SILENT PLACES.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin.</p> - -<p>The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine -devotion and masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian -and the instinct of the Indian, are all finely drawn in this story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE WESTERNERS.</p> - -<p>A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the -best American novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no -other book has done in recent years.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE MYSTERY.</p> - -<p class="noi">In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams.</p> - -<p class="noi">With illustrations by Will Crawford.</p> - -<p>The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout -ship “Laughing Lass” in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. -In the solution, there is a story of the most exciting voyage -that man ever undertook.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic adauthor"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West</span> 26th <span class="smcap">St., New York</span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p> </p> -<div class="tnote"> -<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Note:</p> - -<p class="smfont">Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to - follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the - illustration may not match the page number in the List of - Illustrations.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p> - -<p class="smfont">The author’s em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW DOVE***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 55077-h.htm or 55077-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/5/0/7/55077">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/0/7/55077</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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