PART III.

LIEUTENANT VON BELKE'S NARRATIVE RESUMED

I.

THE MEETING.

As the dusk rapidly thickened and I lay in the heather waiting for the

signal, I gave myself one last bit of good advice. Of "him" I was to

meet, I had received officially a pretty accurate description, and

unofficially heard one or two curious stories. I had also, of course,

had my exact relationship to him officially defined. I was to be under

his orders, generally speaking; but in purely naval matters, or at

least on matters of naval detail, my judgment would be accepted by him.

My last word of advice to myself simply was to be perfectly firm on any

such point, and permit no scheme to be set afoot, however tempting,

unless it was thoroughly practical from the naval point of view.

From the rim of my hollow there on the hillside I could see several of

the farms below me, as well as the manse, and I noted one little sign

of British efficiency--no glimmer of light shown from any of their

windows. At sea a light or two twinkled intermittently, and a

searchlight was playing, though fortunately not in my direction.

Otherwise land and water were alike plunged in darkness. And then at

last one single window of the manse glowed red for an instant. A few

seconds passed, and it shone red again. Finally it showed a brighter

yellow light twice in swift succession.

I rose and very carefully led my cycle over the heather down to the

road, and then, still pushing it, walked quickly down the steep hill to

where the side road turned off. There was not a sound save my footfall

as I approached the house. A dark mass loomed in front of me, which I

saw in a moment to be a garden wall with a few of the low wind-bent

island trees showing above it. This side road led right up to an iron

gate in the wall, and just as I got close enough to distinguish the

bars, I heard a gentle creak and saw them begin to swing open. Beyond,

the trees overarched the drive, and the darkness was profound. I had

passed between the gate-posts before I saw or heard anything more. And

then a quiet voice spoke.

"It is a dark night," it said in perfect English.

"Dark as pitch," I answered.

"It was darker last night," said the voice.

"It is dark enough," I answered.

Not perhaps a very remarkable conversation, you may think; but I can

assure you my fingers were on my revolver, just in case one single word

had been different. Now I breathed freely at last.

"Herr Tiel?" I inquired.

"Mr Tiel," corrected the invisible man beside me.

I saw him then for the first time as he stepped out from the shelter of

the trees and closed the gate behind me--a tall dim figure in black.

"I'll lead your cycle," he said in a low voice, as he came back to me;

"I know the way best."

He took it from me, and as we walked side by side towards the house he

said--

"Permit me, Mr Belke, to give you one little word of caution. While

you are here, forget that you can talk German! _Think_ in English, if

you can. We are walking on a tight-rope, not on the pavement. _No_

precaution is excessive!"

"I understand," I said briefly.

There was in his voice, perfectly courteous though it was, a note of

command which made one instinctively reply briefly--and obediently. I

felt disposed to be favourably impressed with my ally.

He left me standing for a moment in the drive while he led my

motor-cycle round to some shed at the back, and then we entered the

house by the front door.

"My servant doesn't spend the night here," he explained, "so we are

safe enough after dark, as long as we make no sound that can be heard

outside."

It was pitch-dark inside, and only when he had closed and bolted the

front door behind us, did Tiel flash his electric torch. Then I saw

that we stood in a small porch which opened into a little hall, with a

staircase facing us, and a passage opening beside it into the back of

the house. At either side was a door, and Tiel opened that on the

right and led me into a pleasant, low, lamp-lit room with a bright peat

fire blazing and a table laid for supper. I learned afterwards that

the clergyman who had just vacated the parish had left hurriedly, and

that his books and furniture had not yet followed him. Hence the room,

and indeed the whole house, looked habitable and comfortable.

"This is the place I have been looking for for a long time!" I cried

cheerfully, for indeed it made a pleasant contrast to a ruinous farm or

the interior of a submarine.

Tiel smiled. He had a pleasant smile, but it generally passed from his

face very swiftly, and left his expression cool, alert, composed, and a

trifle dominating.

"You had better take off your overalls and begin," he said. "There is

an English warning against conversation between a full man and a

fasting. I have had supper already."

When I took off my overalls, I noticed that he gave me a quick look of

surprise.

"In uniform!" he exclaimed.

"It may not be much use if I'm caught," I laughed, "but I thought it a

precaution worth taking."

"Excellent!" he agreed, and he seemed genuinely pleased. "It was very

well thought of. Do you drink whisky-and-soda?"

"You have no beer?"

He smiled and shook his head.

"I am a Scottish divine," he said, "and I am afraid my guests must

submit to whisky. Even in these little details it is well to be

correct."

For the next half-hour there was little conversation. To tell you the

truth I was nearly famished, and had something better to do than talk.

Tiel on his part opened a newspaper, and now and then read extracts

aloud. It was an English newspaper, of course, and I laughed once or

twice at its items. He smiled too, but he did not seem much given to

laughter. And all the while I took stock of my new acquaintance very

carefully.

In appearance Adolph Tiel was just as he had been described to me, and

very much as my imagination had filled in the picture: a man tall,

though not very tall, clean-shaved, rather thin, decidedly English in

his general aspect, distinctly good-looking, with hair beginning to

turn grey, and cleverness marked clearly in his face. What I had not

been quite prepared for was his air of good-breeding and authority.

Not that there was any real reason why these qualities should have been

absent, but as a naval officer of a country whose military services

have pretty strong prejudices, I had scarcely expected to find in a

secret-service agent quite this air.

Also what I had heard of Tiel had prepared me to meet a gentleman in

whom cleverness was more conspicuous than dignity. Even those who

professed to know something about him had admitted that he was a bit of

a mystery. He was said to come either from Alsace or Lorraine, and to

be of mixed parentage and the most cosmopolitan experience. One story

had it that he served at one period of his very diverse career in the

navy of a certain South American State, and this story I very soon came

to the conclusion was correct, for he showed a considerable knowledge

of naval affairs. Even when he professed ignorance of certain points,

I was inclined to suspect he was simply trying to throw doubt upon the

reports which he supposed I had heard, for rumour also said that he had

quitted the service of his adopted country under circumstances which

reflected more credit on his brains than his honesty.

In fact, my informants were agreed that Herr Tiel's brains were very

remarkable indeed, and that his nerve and address were equal to his

ability. He was undoubtedly very completely in the confidence of my

own Government, and I could mention at least two rather serious mishaps

that had befallen England which were credited to him by people who

certainly ought to have known the facts.

Looking at him attentively as he sat before the fire studying 'The

Scotsman' (the latest paper to be obtained in those parts), I thought

to myself that here was a man I should a very great deal sooner have on

my side than against me. If ever I had seen a wolf in sheep's

clothing, it seemed to me that I beheld one now in the person of Adolph

Tiel, attired as a Scottish clergyman, reading a solid Scottish

newspaper over the peat fire of this remote and peaceful manse. And,

to complete the picture, there sat I arrayed in a German naval uniform,

with the unsuspecting Grand Fleet on the other side of those shuttered

and curtained windows. The piquancy of the whole situation struck me

so forcibly that I laughed aloud.

Tiel looked up and laid down his paper, and his eyebrows rose

inquiringly. He was not a man who wasted many words.

"We are a nice pair!" I exclaimed.

I seemed to read approval of my spirit in his eye.

"You seem none the worse of your adventures," he said with a smile.

"No thanks to you!" I laughed.

Again he gave me that keen look of inquiry.

"I landed on this infernal island last night!" I explained.

"The deuce you did!" said he. "I was afraid you might, but as things

turned out I couldn't get here sooner. What did you do with yourself?"

"First give me one of those cigars," I said, "and then I'll tell you."

He handed me the box of cigars and I drew up an easy-chair on the other

side of the fire. And then I told him my adventures, and as I was not

unwilling that this redoubtable adventurer should see that he had a not

wholly unworthy accomplice, I told them in pretty full detail. He was

an excellent listener, I must say that for him. With an amused yet

appreciative smile, putting in now and then a question shrewd and to

the point, he heard my tale to the end. And then he said in a quiet

manner which I already realised detracted nothing from the value of his

approval--

"You did remarkably well, Mr Belke. I congratulate you."

"Thank you, Mr Tiel," I replied. "And now may I ask you your

adventures?"

"Certainly," said he. "I owe you an explanation."

II.

TIEL'S STORY.

"How much do you know of our scheme?" asked Tiel.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Merely that you were going to impersonate a clergyman who was due to

come here and preach this next Sunday. How you were going to achieve

this feat I wasn't told."

He leaned back in his chair and sucked at his pipe, and then he began

his story with a curious detached air, as though he were surveying his

own handiwork from the point of view of an impartial connoisseur.

"The idea was distinctly ingenious," said he, "and I think I may also

venture to claim for it a little originality. I won't trouble you with

the machinery by which we learn things. It's enough to mention that

among the little things we did learn was the fact that the minister of

this parish had left for another charge, and that the parishioners were

choosing his successor after the Scottish custom--by hearing a number

of candidates each preach a trial sermon." He broke off and asked, "Do

you happen to have heard of Schumann?"

"You don't mean the great Schumann?"

"I mean a certain gentleman engaged in the same quiet line of business

as myself. He is known of course under another name in England, where

he is considered a very fine specimen of John Bull at his best--a

jovial, talkative, commercial gentleman with nice spectacles like Mr

Pickwick, who subscribes to all the war charities and is never tired of

telling his friends what he would do with the Kaiser if he caught him."

I laughed aloud at this happy description of a typical John Bull.

"Well," he continued, "I suggested to Schumann the wild idea--as it

seemed to us at first--of getting into the islands in the guise of a

candidate for the parish of Myredale. Two days later Schumann came to

me with his spectacles twinkling with excitement.

"'Look at this!' said he.

"He showed me a photograph in an illustrated paper. It was the

portrait of a certain Mr Alexander Burnett, minister of a parish in the

south of Scotland, and I assure you that if the name 'Adolph Tiel' had

been printed underneath, none of my friends would have questioned its

being my own portrait.

"'The stars are fighting for us!' said Schumann.

"'They seem ready to enlist,' I agreed.

"'How shall we encourage them?' said he.

"'I shall let you know to-morrow,' I said.

"I went home and thought over the problem. From the first I was

convinced that the only method which gave us a chance of success was

for this man Burnett to enter voluntarily as a candidate, make all the

arrangements himself--including the vital matter of a passport--and

finally start actually upon his journey. Otherwise, no attempt to

impersonate him seemed to me to stand any chance of success.

"Next day I saw Schumann and laid down these conditions, and we set

about making preliminary inquiries. They were distinctly promising.

Burnett's parish was a poor one, and from what we could gather, he had

already been thinking for some time past of making a change.

"We began by sending him anonymously a paper containing a notice of the

vacancy here. That of course was just to set him thinking about it.

The next Sunday Schumann motored down to his parish, saw for himself

that the resemblance to me was actually quite remarkable, and then

after service made the minister's acquaintance. Imagine the good Mr

Burnett's surprise and interest when this pleasant stranger proved to

be intimately acquainted with the vacant parish of Myredale, and

described it as a second Garden of Eden! Before they parted Schumann

saw that the fish was hooked.

"The next problem was how to make the real Burnett vanish into space,

and substitute the false Burnett without raising a trace of suspicion

till my visit here was safely over. Again luck was with us. We sent

an agent down to make inquiries of his servant a few days before he

started, and found that he was going to spend a night with a friend in

Edinburgh on his way north."

Tiel paused to knock the ashes out of his pipe, and I remarked--

"At first sight I confess that seems to me to complicate the problem.

You would have to wait till Burnett had left Edinburgh, wouldn't you?"

Tiel smiled and shook his head.

"That is what we thought ourselves at first," said he, "but our second

thoughts were better. What do you think of a wire to Burnett from his

friend in Edinburgh telling him that a Mr Taylor would call for him in

his motor-car: plus a wire to the friend in Edinburgh from Mr Burnett

regretting that his visit must be postponed?"

"Excellent!" I laughed.

"Each wire, I may add, contained careful injunctions not to reply. And

I may also add that the late Mr Burnett was simplicity itself."

I started involuntarily.

"The 'late' Mr Burnett! Do you mean----"

"What else could one do with him?" asked Tiel calmly. "Both Schumann

and I believe in being thorough."

Of course this worthy pair were but doing their duty. Still I was glad

to think they had done their dirty work without my assistance, It was

with a conscious effort that I was able to ask calmly--

"How did you manage it?"

"Mr Taylor, with his car and his chauffeur, called at the manse. The

chauffeur remained in the car, keeping his face unostentatiously

concealed. Mr Taylor enjoyed the minister's hospitality till the

evening had sufficiently fallen. Then we took him to Edinburgh by the

coast road."

Tiel paused and looked at me, as though to see how I was enjoying the

gruesome tale. I am afraid I made it pretty clear that I was not

enjoying it in the least. The idea of first partaking of the wretched

man's hospitality, and then coolly murdering him, was a little too much

for my stomach. Tiel, however, seemed rather amused than otherwise

with my attitude.

"We knocked him on the head at a quiet part of the road, stripped him

of every stitch of clothing, tied a large stone to his feet, and

pitched him over the cliff," he said calmly.

"And his clothes----," I began, shrinking back a little in my chair.

"Are these," said Tiel, indicating his respectable-looking suit of

black.

Curiously enough this was the only time I heard the man tell a tale of

this sort, and in this diabolical, deliberate, almost flippant way. It

was in marked contrast to his usually brief, concise manner of

speaking. Possibly it was my reception of his story that discouraged

him from exhibiting this side of his nature again. I certainly made no

effort to conceal my distaste now.

"Thank God, I am not in the secret service!" I said devoutly.

"I understand you are in the submarine service," said Tiel in a dry

voice.

"I am--and I am proud of it!"

"Have you never fired a torpedo at an inoffensive merchant ship?"

"That is very different!" I replied hotly.

"It is certainly more wholesale," said he.

I sprang up.

"Mr Tiel," I said, "kindly understand that a German naval officer is

not in the habit of enduring affronts to his service!"

"But you think a German secret-service agent should have no such

pride?" he inquired.

"I decline to discuss the question any further," I said stiffly.

For a moment he seemed exceedingly amused. Then he saw that I was in

no humour for jesting on the subject, and he ceased to smile.

"Have another cigar?" he said, in a quiet matter-of-fact voice, just as

though nothing had happened to ruffle the harmony of the evening.

"You quite understand what I said?" I demanded in an icy voice.

"I thought the subject was closed," he replied with a smile, and then

jumping up he laid his hand on my arm in the friendliest fashion. "My

dear Belke," said he, "we are going to be shut up together in this

house for several days, and if we begin with a quarrel we shall

certainly end in murder. Let us respect one another's point of view,

and say no more about it."

"I don't know what you mean by 'one another's point of view,'" I

answered politely but coldly. "So far as I am aware there is only one

point of view, and I have just stated it. If we both respect that,

there will be no danger of our quarrelling."

He glanced at me for a moment in an odd way, and then said merely--

"Well, are you going to have another cigar, or would you like to go to

bed?"

"With your permission I shall go to bed," I said.

He conducted me through the hall and down the passage that led to the

back premises. At the end rose a steep and narrow stair. We ascended

this, and at the top found a narrow landing with a door at either end

of it.

"This is your private flat," he explained in a low voice. "The old

house, you will see, has been built in two separate instalments, which

have separate stairs and no communication with one another on the upper

landing. These two rooms are supposed to be locked up and not in use

at present, but I have secured their keys."

He unlocked one of the doors, and we entered the room. It was square,

and of quite a fair size. On two sides the walls sloped attic-wise, in

a third was a fireplace and a window, and in the fourth two doors--the

second opening into a large cupboard. This room had simple bedroom

furniture, and also a small table and a basket chair. When we entered,

it was lit only by a good fire, and pervaded by a pleasant aroma of

peat smoke. Tiel lighted a paraffin lamp and remarked--

"You ought to be quite comfortable here."

Personally, I confess that my breath was fairly taken away. I had

anticipated sleeping under the roof in some dark and chilly garret, or

perhaps in the straw of an outhouse.

"Comfortable!" I exclaimed. "Mein Gott, who would not be on secret

service! But are you sure all this is safe? This fire, for

instance--the smoke surely will be seen."

"I have promised to keep the bedrooms aired while I am staying here,"

smiled Tiel.

He then explained in detail the arrangements of our remarkable

household. He himself slept in the front part of the house, up the

other staircase. The room opposite mine was empty, and so was the room

underneath; but below the other was the kitchen, and I was warned to be

very quiet in my movements. The single servant arrived early in the

morning, and left about nine o'clock at night: she lived, it seemed, at

a neighbouring farm; and Tiel assured me there was nothing to be feared

from her provided I was reasonably careful.

I had brought with me a razor, a toothbrush, and a brush and comb, and

Tiel had very thoughtfully brought a spare sleeping suit and a pair of

slippers. I was not at all sure that I was disposed to like the man,

but I had to admit that his thoroughness and his consideration for my

comfort were highly praiseworthy. In fact, I told him so frankly, and

we parted for the night on friendly terms.

Tiel quietly descended the stairs, while I sat down before my fire and

smoked a last cigarette, and then very gratefully turned into my

comfortable bed.

III.

THE PLAN.

I slept like a log, and only awakened when Tiel came into my room next

morning, bringing my breakfast on a tray. He had sent the servant over

to the farm for milk, he explained, and while I ate he sat down beside

my bed.

"Can you talk business now?" I asked.

"This afternoon," said he.

I made a grimace.

"I naturally don't want to waste my time," I observed.

"You won't," he assured me.

"But why this afternoon rather than this morning? You can send the

servant out for a message whenever you choose."

"I hope to have a pleasant little surprise for you in the afternoon."

I was aware of the fondness of these secret-service agents for a bit of

mystery, and I knew I had to humour him. But really it seems a

childish kind of vanity.

"There is one thing you can do for me," I said. "If I am to kick up my

heels in this room all day--and probably for several days--I must have

a pen and ink and some foolscap."

After his fashion he asked no questions but merely nodded, and

presently brought them.

The truth was, I had conceived the idea of writing some account of my

adventure, and in fact I am writing these lines now in that very

bedroom I have described. I am telling a story of which I don't know

the last chapter myself. A curious position for an author! If I am

caught--well, it will make no difference. I have given nothing away

that won't inevitably be discovered if I am arrested. And, mein Gott,

what a relief it has been! I should have died of boredom otherwise.

If only my window looked out to sea! But, unluckily, I am at the back

of the house and look, as it were sideways, on to a sloping hillside of

green ferns below and brown heather at the top. By opening the window

and putting my head right out, I suppose I should catch a glimpse of

the sea, but then my neighbours would catch a glimpse of me. I

expostulated with Tiel as soon as I realised how the room faced, but he

points out that the servant may go into any room in the front part of

the house, whereas this part is supposed to be closed. I can see that

he is right, but it is nevertheless very tantalising.

On that Saturday afternoon Tiel came back to my room some hours later,

and under his quiet manner I could see that he bore tidings of

importance. No one could come quicker to the point when he chose, and

this time he came to it at once.

"You remember the affair of the _Haileybury_?" he demanded.

"The British cruiser which was mined early in the war?"

He nodded.

"Perfectly," I said.

"You never at any time came across her captain? His name was

Ashington."

"No," I said, "I have met very few British officers."

"I don't know whether you heard that she was supposed to be two miles

out of her proper course, contrary to orders, did you?"

"Was she?"

"Ashington says 'no.' But he was court-martialled, and now he's in

command of a small boat--the _Yellowhammer_. Before the loss of his

ship he was considered one of the most promising officers in the

British service; now----!"

Tiel made an expressive gesture and his eyes smiled at me oddly. I

began to understand.

"Now he is an acquaintance of yours?"

Tiel nodded.

"But has he knowledge? Has he special information?"

"His younger brother is on the flagship, and he has several very

influential friends. I see that _my_ friends obtain knowledge."

I looked at him hard.

"You are _quite_ sure this is all right? Such men are the last to be

trusted--even by those who pay them."

"Do you know many 'such men'?" he inquired.

"None, I am thankful to say."

"They are queer fish," said Tiel in a reminiscent way, "but they

generally do the thing pretty thoroughly, especially when one has a

firm enough hold of them. Ashington is absolutely reliable."

"Where is he to be seen?"

"He went out for a walk this afternoon," said Tiel drily, "and happened

to call at the manse to see if he could get a cup of tea--a very

natural thing to do. Come--the coast is clear."

He led the way downstairs and I followed him, not a little excited, I

confess. How my mission was going to develop, I had no clear idea when

I set forth upon it, but though I had imagined several possible

developments, I was not quite prepared for this. To have an officer of

the Grand Fleet actually assisting at our councils was decidedly

unexpected. I began to realise more and more that Adolph Tiel was a

remarkable person.

In the front parlour an officer rose as we entered, and the British and

German uniforms bowed to each other under circumstances which were

possibly unique. Because, though Ashingtons do exist and these things

sometimes happen, they generally happen in mufti. I looked at our

visitor very hard. On his part, he looked at me sharply for a moment,

and then averted his eyes. I should certainly have done the same in

his place.

He was a big burly man, dark, and getting bald. His voice was deep and

rich; his skin shone with physical fitness; altogether he was a fine

gross animal, and had his spirit been as frank and jovial as his

appearance suggested, I could have pictured him the jolliest of company

in the ward-room and the life and soul of a desperate enterprise. But

he maintained a frowning aspect, and was clearly a man whose sullen

temper and sense of injury had led him into my friend's subtle net.

However, here he was, and it was manifestly my business not to

criticise but to make the most of him.

"Well, gentlemen," began Tiel, "I don't think we need beat about the

bush. Captain Ashington has an idea, and it is for Lieutenant von

Belke to approve of it or not. I know enough myself about naval

affairs to see that there are great possibilities in the suggestion,

but I don't know enough to advise on it."

"What is the suggestion?" I asked in a very dry and non-committal voice.

Captain Ashington, I noticed, cleared his throat before he began.

"The fleet is going out one evening next week," he said; "probably on

Thursday."

"How do you know?" I demanded.

He looked confidentially at Tiel.

"Mr Tiel knows the source of my information," he said.

"I should like to know it too," said I.

"I can vouch for Captain Ashington's information," said Tiel briefly.

There is something extraordinarily decisive and satisfying about Tiel

when he speaks like that. I knew it must be all right; still, I felt

it my duty to make sure.

"Have you any objections to telling me?" I asked.

Tiel stepped to my side and whispered--

"I told you about his brother."

I understood, and did not press my question. Whether to respect the

man for this remnant of delicacy, or to despise him for not being a

more thorough, honest blackguard, I was not quite sure.

"Well," I said, "suppose we know when they are going out, they will

take the usual precautions, I presume?"

Ashington leaned forward confidentially over the table.

"They are going out on a new course," he said in a low voice.

I pricked up my ears, but all I said was--

"Why is that?"

"On account of the currents. The old passage hasn't been quite

satisfactory. They are going to experiment with a new passage."

This certainly sounded all right, for I knew how diabolical the

tideways can be round these islands.

"Do you know the new course at all accurately?" I inquired.

Captain Ashington smiled for the first time, and somehow or other the

sight of a smile on his face gave me a strongly increased distaste for

the man.

"I know it exactly," he said.

He took out of his pocket a folded chart and laid it on the table. The

three of us bent over it, and at a glance I could see that this was

business indeed. All the alterations in the mine-fields were shown and

the course precisely laid down.

"Well," said Tiel, "I think this suggests something, Belke."

By this time I was inwardly burning with excitement.

"I hope to have the pleasure of being present just about that spot," I

said, pointing to the chart.

"Or there," suggested Ashington.

"Either would do very nicely, so far as I can judge," said Tiel. "How

many submarines can you concentrate, and how long will it take you to

concentrate them?"

I considered the question.

"I am afraid there is no use in concentrating more than two or three in

such narrow waters," I said. "Squadronal handling of submarines of

course is impossible except on the surface. And we clearly can't keep

on the surface!"

Captain Ashington looked at me in a way I did not at all like.

"We run a few risks in the British navy," he said. "D--n it, you'll

have a sitting target! I'd crowd in every blank submarine the water

would float if I were running this stunt!"

"You don't happen to be running it," I said coldly.

Tiel touched me lightly on the shoulder and gave me a swift smile,

pleasant but admonitory.

"The happy mean seems to be suggested," he said soothingly. "There's a

great deal to be said for both points of view. On the one hand you

risk submarines: on the other hand you make the battle-fleet run risks.

One has simply to balance those. What about half a dozen submarines?"

I shook my head.

"Too many," I said. "Besides, we couldn't concentrate them in the

time."

"How many could you?"

"Four," I said; "if I can get back to my boat on Monday, we'll have

them there on Thursday."

Tiel produced a bottle of whisky and syphons and we sat over the chart

discussing details for some time longer. It was finally handed over to

me, and Captain Ashington rose to go.

"By the way," I said, "there is one very important preliminary to be

arranged. How am I to get back to my boat?"

"That will be all right," said Tiel confidently; "I have just heard

from Captain Ashington that they have arrested the wrong man on

suspicion of being the gentleman who toured the country yesterday. The

only thing is that they can't find his cycle. Now I think if we could

arrange to have your motor-cycle quietly left near his house and

discovered by the authorities, they are not likely to watch the roads

any longer."

"I'll fix that up," said Captain Ashington promptly.

"How will you manage it?" I asked.

"Trust him," said Tiel.

"But then how shall I get back?"

"I shall drive you over," smiled Tiel. "There will probably be a dying

woman who desires the consolations of religion in that neighbourhood on

Monday night."

I smiled too, but merely at the cunning of the man, not at the thought

of parting with my motor-cycle. However, I saw perfectly well that it

would be folly to ride it over, and if I left it behind at the

manse--well, I was scarcely likely to call for it again!

"Now, Belke," said Tiel, "we had better get you safely back to your

turret chamber. You have been away quite as long as is safe."

I bowed to Captain Ashington--I could not bring myself to touch his

hand, and we left his great gross figure sipping whisky-and-soda.

"What do you think of him?" asked Tiel.

"He seems extremely competent," I answered candidly. "But what an

unspeakable scoundrel!"

"We mustn't quarrel with our instruments," said he philosophically.

"He is doing Germany a good turn. Surely that is enough."

"I should like to think that Germany did not need to stoop to use such

characters!"

"Yes," he agreed, though in a colourless voice, "one would indeed like

to think so."

I could see that Adolph Tiel had not many scruples left after his

cosmopolitan experiences.

IV.

WHAT HAPPENED ON SUNDAY.

That evening when we had the house to ourselves, I joined Tiel in the

parlour, and we had a long talk on naval matters, British and German.

He knew less of British naval affairs than I did, but quite enough

about German to make him a keen listener and a very suggestive talker.

In fact I found him excellent company. I even suspected him at last of

being a man of good birth, and quite fitting company for a German

officer. But of course he may have acquired his air of breeding from

mixing with men like myself. As for his name, that of course gave no

guide, for I scarcely supposed that he had been Tiel throughout his

adventurous career. I threw out one or two "feelers" on the subject,

but no oyster could be more secretive than Adolph Tiel when he chose.

That night I heard the wind wandering noisily round the old house, and

I wakened in the morning to find the rain beating on the window. Tiel

came in rather late with my breakfast, and I said to him at once--

"I have just remembered that this is Sunday. I wish I could come and

hear your sermon, Tiel!"

"I wish you could, too," said he. "It will be a memorable event in the

parish."

"But are you actually going to do it?"

"How can I avoid it?"

"You are so ingenious I should have thought you would have hit upon a

plan."

He looked at me in his curious way.

"Why should I have tried to get out of it?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Personally, I shouldn't feel anxious to make a mock of religion if I

could avoid it."

"We are such a religious people," said he, "that surely we can count on

God forgiving us more readily than other nations."

He spoke in his driest voice, and for a moment I looked at him

suspiciously. But he was perfectly grave.

"Still," I replied, "I am glad the Navy doesn't have to preach bogus

sermons!"

"Ah," said he, "the German navy has to keep on its pedestal. But the

secret service must sometimes creep about in the dust."

His eyes suddenly twinkled as he added--

"But never fear, I shall give them a beautiful sermon! The text will

be the passage about Joshua and the spies, and the first hymn will be,

'Onward, Christian Sailors.'"

He threw me a humorous glance and went out. I smiled back, but I

confess I was not very much amused. Neither the irreverence nor the

jest about the sailors (since it referred apparently to me) struck me

as in the best of taste.

That morning was one of the dreariest I ever spent. The wind rose to

half a gale, and the fine rain beat in torrents on the panes. I wrote

diligently for some time, but after a while I grew tired of that and

paced the floor in my stockinged feet (for the sake of quietness) like

a caged animal. My one consolation was that to-morrow would see the

end of my visit. Already I longed for the cramped quarters and

perpetual risks of the submarine, and detested these islands even more

bitterly than I hated any other part of Britain.

In the early afternoon I had a pleasant surprise. Tiel came in and

told me that his servant had gone out for the rest of the day, and that

I could safely come down to the parlour. There I had a late luncheon

in comparative comfort, and moreover I could look out of the windows on

to the sea. And what a dreary prospect I saw! Under a heavy sky and

with grey showers rolling over it, that open treeless country looked

desolation itself. As for the waters, whitecaps chased each other over

the wind-whipped expanse of grey, fading into a wet blur of moving rain

a few miles out. Through this loomed the nearer lines of giant ships,

while the farther were blotted clean out. I thought of the long

winters when one day of this weather followed another for week after

week, month after month; when the northern days were brief and the

nights interminable, and this armada lay in these remote isles enduring

and waiting. The German navy has had its gloomy and impatient seasons,

but not such a prolonged purgatory as that. We have a different

arrangement. Probably everybody knows what it is--still, one must not

say.

After lunch, when we had lit our cigars, Tiel said--

"By the way, you will be pleased to hear that my efforts this morning

were so successful that the people want me to give them another dose

next Sunday."

I stared at him.

"Really?" I exclaimed.

He nodded.

"But I thought there would be another preacher next Sunday."

"Oh, by no means. There was no one for next Sunday, and they were only

too glad to have the pulpit filled."

"But will you risk it?"

He smiled confidently.

"If there is any danger, I shall get warning in plenty of time."

"To ensure your escape?"

"To vanish somehow."

"But why should you wait?"

He looked at me seriously and said deliberately--

"I have other schemes in my head--something even bigger. It is too

early to talk yet, but it is worth running a little risk for."

I looked at this astonishing man with unconcealed admiration.

Regulations, authorities, precautions, dangers, he seemed to treat as

almost negligible. And I had seen how he could contrive and what he

could effect.

"I am afraid I shall have to ask you to stay with me for a few days

longer," he added.

I don't think I ever got a more unpleasant shock.

"You mean you wish me _not_ to rejoin my ship to-morrow night?"

"I know it is asking a great deal of you; but, my dear Belke, duty is

duty."

"My duty is with my ship," I said quickly. "Besides, it is the post of

danger--and of honour. Think of Thursday night!"

"Do you honestly think you are essential to the success of a torpedo

attack?"

"Every officer will be required."

"My dear Belke, you didn't answer my question. Are you _essential_?"'

"My dear Tiel," I replied firmly, for I was quite resolved I should not

remain cooped up in this infernal house, exposed to hourly risk of

being shot as a spy, while my ship was going into action, "I am sorry

to seem disobliging; but I am a naval officer, and my first duty is

quite clear to me."

"Pardon me for reminding you that you are at present under my orders,"

said he.

"While this affair is being arranged only."

"But I say that I have not yet finished my arrangements."

I saw that I was in something of a dilemma, for indeed it was difficult

to say exactly how my injunctions met the case.

"Well," I said, "I shall tell you what I shall do. I shall put it to

my superior officer, Commander Wiedermann, and ask him whether he

desires me to absent myself any longer."

This was a happy inspiration, for I felt certain what Wiedermann would

say.

"Then I shall not know till to-morrow night whether to count on

you--and then I shall very probably lose you?"

I shrugged my shoulders, but said nothing. Suddenly his face cleared.

"My dear fellow," he said, "I won't press you. Rejoin your ship if you

think it your duty."

By mutual consent we changed the subject, and discussed the question of

submarines _versus_ surface ships, a subject in which Tiel showed both

interest and acumen, though I had naturally more knowledge, and could

contribute much from my own personal experience. I must add that it is

a pleasure to discuss such matters with him, for he has a frank and

genuine respect for those who really understand what they are talking

about.

Towards evening I went back to my room, and fell to writing this

narrative again, but about ten o'clock I had another visit from Tiel;

and again he disconcerted me, though not so seriously this time.

"I had a message from Ashington, asking to see me," he explained, "and

I have just returned from a meeting with him. He tells me that the

date of the fleet's sailing will probably be altered to Friday, but he

will let me know definitely to-morrow or Tuesday."

"Or Tuesday!" I exclaimed. "Then I may have to stay here for another

night!"

"I'm sorry," said he, "but I'm afraid it can't be helped."

"But can we ever be sure that the fleet will keep to a programme? I

have just been thinking it over, and the question struck me--why are

they making this arrangement so far ahead?"

"That struck me too," said Tiel, "and also Ashington. But he has found

out now. There is some big scheme on. Some think it is Heligoland,

and some think the Baltic. Anyhow, there is a definite programme, and

they will certainly keep to it. The only uncertain thing is the actual

day of sailing."

"It is a plan which will be nicely upset if we get our torpedoes into

three or four of their super-dreadnoughts!" I exclaimed.

He nodded grimly.

"And for that, we want to have the timing exact" he said. "Be patient,

my friend; we shall know by Tuesday morning at the latest."

I tried to be as philosophical as I could, but it was a dreary evening,

with the rain still beating on my window and another day's confinement

to look forward to.

V.

A MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURE.

Monday morning broke wet and windy, but with every sign of clearing up.

Tiel looked in for a very few minutes, but he was in his most

uncommunicative mood, and merely told me that he would have to be out

for the first part of the day, but would be back in the afternoon. I

could not help suspecting that he was still a little sore over my

refusal to remain with him, and was paying me out by this display of

secrecy. Such petty affronts to officers from those unfortunate enough

to be outside that class are not unknown. I was of course above taking

offence, but I admit that it made me feel less anxious to consult his

wishes at every turn.

In this humour I wrote for a time, and at last got up and stared

impatiently out of the window. It had become quite a fine day, and the

prospect of gazing for the greater part of it at a few acres of inland

landscape, with that fascinating spectacle to be seen from the front

windows, irritated me more and more. And then, to add to my annoyance,

I heard "Boom! Boom! Boom!" crashing from the seaward side, and

shaking the very foundations of the house. I began to feel

emphatically that it was my duty to watch the British fleet at gunnery

practice.

Just then two women appeared, walking slowly away from the house. One

had an apron and no hat, and though I had only once caught a fleeting

glimpse of the back view of our servant, I made quite certain it was

she. I watched them till they reached a farm about quarter of a mile

away, and turned into the house, and then I said to myself--

"There can be no danger now!"

And thereupon I unlocked my door, walked boldly downstairs, and went

into the front parlour.

I saw a vastly different scene from yesterday. A fresh breeze rippled

the blue waters, patches of sunshine and cloud-shadow chased each other

over sea and land, and distinct and imposing in its hateful majesty lay

the British fleet. A light cruiser of an interesting new type was

firing her 6-inch guns at a distant target, and for about five minutes

I thoroughly enjoyed myself. And then I heard a sound.

I turned instantly, to see the door opening; and very hurriedly I

stepped back behind the nearest window curtain. And then in came our

servant--_not_ the lady I had seen departing from the house, I need

scarcely say! I was fully half exposed and I dared not make a movement

to draw the curtain round me; in fact, even if I had, my feet would

have remained perfectly visible. All I could do was to stand as still

as a statue and pray that Heaven would blind her.

She walked in briskly, a middle-aged capable-looking woman, holding a

broom, and glanced all round the room in a purposeful way. Among the

things she looked at was me, but to my utter astonishment she paid no

more attention than if I had been a piece of furniture. For a moment I

thought she was blind; but her sharp glances clearly came from no

sightless eyes. Then I wondered whether she could have such a horrible

squint that when she seemed to look at me she was really looking in

another direction. But I could see no sign of a cast in those eyes

either. And then she picked up an armful of small articles and walked

quickly out, leaving the door wide open.

What had saved me I had no idea, but I was resolved not to trust to

that curtain any longer. In the middle of the room was a square table

of moderate size with a cloth over it. Without stopping to think

twice, I dived under the cloth and crouched upon the floor.

The next instant in she came again, and I found that my table-cloth was

so scanty that I could follow her movements perfectly. She took some

more things out, and then more again, and finally she proceeded to set

the furniture piece by piece back against the wall, till the table was

left lonely and horribly conspicuous in the middle of the floor. And

then she began to sweep out that room.

There was small scope for an exhibition of resource, but I was as

resourceful as I was able. I very gently pulled the scanty table-cloth

first in one direction and then in the other, according to the side of

the room she was sweeping, and as noiselessly as possible I crept a

foot or two farther away from her each time. And all the while the

dust rose in clouds, and the hateful broom came so near me that it

sometimes brushed my boots. And yet the extraordinary woman never

showed by a single sign that she had any suspicion of my presence!

At last when the whole floor had been swept--except of course under the

table--she paused, and from the glimpse I could get of her attitude she

seemed to be ruminating. And then she stooped, lifted the edge of the

cloth, and said in an absolutely matter-of-fact voice--

"Will you not better get out till I'm through with my sweeping?"

Too utterly bewildered to speak, I crept out and rose to my feet.

"You can get under the table again when I'm finished," she observed as

she pulled off the cloth.

To such an observation there seemed no adequate reply, or at least I

could think of none. I turned in silence and hurried back to my

bedroom. And there I sat for a space too dumfounded for coherent

thought.

Gradually I began to recover my wits and ponder over this mysterious

affair, and a theory commenced to take shape. Clearly she was insane,

or at least half-witted, and was quite incapable of drawing reasonable

conclusions. And the more I thought it over, the more did several

circumstances seem to confirm this view. My fire, for instance, with

its smoke coming out of the chimney, and the supply of peat and

firewood which Tiel or I were constantly bringing up. Had she noticed

nothing of that? Also Tiel's frequent ascents of this back staircase

to a part of the house supposed to be closed. She must be half-witted.

And then I began to recall her brisk eye and capable air, and the idiot

theory resolved into space. Only one alternative seemed left. She

must be spying upon us, and aware of my presence all the time! But if

so, what could I do? I felt even more helpless than I did that first

night when my motor-cycle broke down. I could only sit and wait,

revolver in hand.

When I heard Tiel's step at last on the stairs, I confess that my

nerves were not at their best.

"We are betrayed!" I exclaimed.

He stared at me very hard.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, and I am bound to say this of

Tiel, that there is something very reassuring in his calm voice.

I told him hurriedly. He looked at me for a moment, began to smile,

and then checked himself.

"I owe you an apology, Belke," he said. "I ought to have explained

that that woman is in my pay."

"In your pay?" I cried. "And she has been so all the time?"

He nodded.

"And yet you never told me, but let me hide up in this room like a rat

in a hole?"

"The truth is," he replied, "that till I had got to know you pretty

well, I was afraid you might be rash--or at least careless, if you knew

that woman was one of us."

"So you treated me like an infant, Mr Tiel?"

"The life I have lived," said Tiel quietly, "has not been conducive to

creating a feeling of confidence in my fellowmen's discretion--until I

_know_ them. I know you now, and I feel sorry I took this precaution.

Please accept my apologies."

"I accept your apology," I said stiffly; "but in future, Mr Tiel,

things will be pleasanter if you trust me."

He bowed slightly and said simply--

"I shall."

And then in a different voice he said--

"We have a visitor coming this afternoon to stay with us."

"To stay here!" I exclaimed.

"Another of _us_," he explained.

"Another--in these islands? Who is he?"

As I spoke we heard a bell ring.

"Ah, here she is," said Tiel, going to the door. "Come down and be

introduced whenever you like."

For a moment I stood stock still, lost in doubt and wonder.

"She!" I repeated to myself.

VI.

THE VISITOR.

My feelings as I approached the parlour were anything but happy. Some

voice seemed to warn me that I was in the presence of something

sinister, that some unknown peril stalked at my elbow. This third

party--this "she"--filled me with forebodings. If ever anybody had a

presentiment, I had one, and all I can say now is that within thirty

seconds of opening the parlour door, I had ceased to believe in

presentiments, entirely and finally. The vision I beheld nearly took

my breath away.

"Let me introduce you to my sister, Miss Burnett," said Tiel. "She is

so devoted to her brother that she has insisted on coming to look after

him for the few days he is forced to spend in this lonely manse."

He said this with a smile, and of course never intended me to believe a

word of his statement, yet as he gave her no other name, and as that

was the only account of her circulated in the neighbourhood, I shall

simply refer to her in the meantime as Miss Burnett. It is the only

name that I have to call her by to her face.

As to her appearance, I can only say that she is the most beautiful

woman I have ever met in my life. The delicacy and distinction of her

features, her dark eyebrows, her entrancing eye, and her thoughtful

mouth, so firm and yet so sweet, her delicious figure and graceful

carriage--heavens, I have never seen any girl to approach her! What is

more, she has a face which I _trust_. I have had some experience of

women, and I could feel at the first exchange of glances and of words

that here was one of those rare women on whom a man could implicitly

rely.

"Have you just landed upon these islands?" I inquired.

"Not to-day," she said; and indeed, when I came to think of it, she

would not have had time to reach the house in that case.

"Did you have much difficulty?" I asked.

"The minister's sister is always admitted," said Tiel with his dry

smile.

I asked presently if she had travelled far. She shrugged her

shoulders, gave a delightful little laugh, and said--

"We get so used to travelling that I have forgotten what 'far' is!"

Meanwhile tea was brought in, and Miss Burnett sat down and poured it

out with the graceful nonchalant air of a charming hostess in her own

drawing-room, while Tiel talked of the weather and referred carelessly

to the lastest news just like any gentleman who might have called

casually upon her. I, on my part, tried as best I could to catch the

same air, and we all talked away very pleasantly indeed. We spoke

English, of course, all the time, and indeed, any one overhearing us

and not seeing my uniform would never have dreamt for a moment that we

were anything but three devoted subjects of King George.

On the other hand, we were surely proceeding on the assumption that

nobody was behind a curtain or listening at the keyhole, and that being

so, I could not help feeling that the elaborate pretence of being a

mere party of ordinary acquaintances was a little unnecessary. At last

I could not help saying something of what was in my mind.

"Is the war over?" I asked suddenly.

Both the others seemed surprised.

"I wish it were, Mr Belke!" said Miss Burnett with a sudden and moving

change to seriousness.

"Then if it is not, why are we pretending so religiously that we have

no business here but to drink tea, Miss Burnett?"

"I am not pretending; I am drinking it," she smiled.

"Yes, yes," I said, "but you know what I mean. It seems to me so

un-German!"

They both looked at me rather hard.

"I'm afraid," said Miss Burnett, "that we of the secret service grow

terribly cosmopolitan. Our habits are those of no country--or rather

of all countries."

"I had almost forgotten," said Tiel, "that I once thought and felt like

Mr Belke." And then he added this singular opinion: "It is Germany's

greatest calamity--greater even than the coming in of Britain against

her, or the Battle of the Marne--that those who guide her destinies

have not forgotten it too."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, a little indignantly I must own.

"At every tea-party for many years Germany has talked about what

interested herself--and that was chiefly war. At no tea-party has she

tried to learn the thoughts and interests of the other guests. In

consequence she does not yet understand the forces against her, why

they act as they do, and how strong they are. But her enemies

understand too well."

"You mean that she has been honest and they dishonest?"

"Yes," said Miss Burnett promptly and with a little smile, "my brother

means that in order really to deceive people one has to act as we are

acting now."

I laughed.

"But unfortunately now there is no one to deceive!"

She laughed too.

"But they might suddenly walk in!"

Tiel was not a frequent laugher, but he condescended to smile.

"Remember, Belke," he said, "I warned you on the first night we met

that you must not only talk but think in English. If we don't do that

constantly and continually when no one is watching us, how can we count

on doing it constantly and continually when some one _may_ be watching

us?"

"Personally I should think it sufficient to wait till some one _was_

watching," I said.

"There speaks Germany," smiled Tiel.

"Germany disdains to act a part all the time!" I cried.

I confess I was nettled by his tone, but his charming "sister" disarmed

me instantly.

"Mr Belke means that he wants footlights and an orchestra and an

audience before he mutters 'Hush! I hear her coming!' He doesn't

believe in saying 'Hush!' in the corner of every railway carriage or

under his umbrella. And I really think it makes him much less alarming

company!"

"You explain things very happily, Eileen," said Tiel.

I was watching her face (for which there was every excuse!) and I saw

that she started ever so slightly when he called her by her first name.

This pleased me--I must confess it. It showed that they had not played

this farce of brother and sister together before, and already I had

begun to dislike a little the idea that they were old and intimate

confederates. I also fancied that it showed she did not quite enjoy

the familiarity. But she got her own back again instantly.

"It is my one desire to enlighten you, Alexander," she replied with a

very serious air.

I could not help laughing aloud, and I must confess that Tiel laughed

frankly too.

The next question that I remember our discussing was one of very

immediate and vital interest to us all. It began with a remark by

Eileen (as I simply must call her behind her back; 'Miss Burnett'

smacks too much of Tiel's disguises--and besides it is too British).

We were talking of the English, and she said--

"Well, anyhow they are not a very suspicious people. Look at this

little party!"

"Sometimes I feel that they are almost incredibly unsuspicious," I said

seriously. "In Germany this house would surely be either visited or

watched!"

Tiel shook his head.

"In Kiel or Wilhelmshaven an English party could live just as

unmolested," he replied, "provided that not the least trace of

suspicion was aroused _at the outset_. That is the whole secret of my

profession. One takes advantages of the fact that even the most wary

and watchful men take the greater part of their surroundings for

granted. The head of any War Office--German, French, English, or

whatever it may be--doesn't suddenly conceive a suspicion of one of his

clerks, unless something in the clerk's conduct calls his attention.

If, then, it were possible to enter the War Office, looking and

behaving exactly like one of the clerks, suspicion would not _begin_.

It is the beginning one has to guard against."

"Why don't you enter the British War Office, then?" asked Eileen with a

smile.

"Because, unfortunately, they know all the clerks intimately by sight.

In this case they expected a minister whom nobody knew. The difficulty

of the passport with its photograph was got over by a little

ingenuity." (He threw me a quick grim smile.) "Thus I was able to

appear as a person fully expected, and as long as I don't do anything

inconsistent with the character, why should any one throw even so much

as an inquisitive glance in my direction. Until suspicion _begins_, we

are as safe here as in the middle of Berlin. Once it begins--well, it

will be a very different story."

"And you don't think my coming will rouse any suspicion?" asked Eileen,

with, for the first time (I fancied), a faint suggestion of anxiety.

"Suspicion? Certainly not! Just think. Put yourself in the shoes of

the neighbours in the parish, or even of any naval officer who might

chance to learn you were here. What is more natural than that the

minister who--at the request of the people--is staying a week longer

than he intended, should get his sister to look after him? The

danger-point in both cases was passed when we got into the islands. We

know that there was no suspicion roused in either case."

"How do you know?" I interposed.

"Another quality required for this work," replied Tiel with a detached

air, "is enough imagination to foresee the precautions that will be

required. One wants to establish precaution behind precaution, just as

an army establishes a series of defensive positions. In this case I

have got our good friend Ashington watching closely for the first

evidence of doubt or inquiry. So that I _know_ that both my sister and

I passed the barrier without raising a question in anybody's mind."

"But how do you know that Ashington can be absolutely relied on?" I

persisted.

"Yes," put in Eileen, "I was wondering too."

"Because Ashington will certainly share my fate--whatever that may be,"

said Tiel grimly. "He knows that; in fact he knows that I have

probably taken steps to ensure that happening, in case there might be

any loophole for him."

"But can't a man turn King's evidence (isn't that the term?) and get

pardoned?" asked Eileen.

"Not a naval officer," said Tiel.

"No," I agreed. "I must say that for the British Navy. An officer

would have no more chance of pardon in it than in our own navy."

"Well," smiled Eileen, "I feel relieved! Don't you, Mr Belke?"

"Yes," I said, "I begin to understand the whole situation more clearly.

I pray that suspicion may not _begin_!"

"In that case," said Tiel, "you realise now, perhaps, why we have to

keep up acting, whether any one is watching us or not."

"Yes," I admitted, "I begin to see your reasons a little better. But

why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"All what?"

"Well--about Ashington, for instance."

"I suppose," he said, "the truth is, Belke, that you have laid your

finger on another instance of people taking things for granted. I

assumed you would realise these things. It was my own fault."

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that the real reason was his

love of mystery and his Secret Service habit of distrusting people, but

I realised that Eileen had shown a little of the same evasiveness, and

I would not have her think that my criticism was directed against her.

Presently Tiel suggested that it would be wiser if I retired to my

room, and for a moment there was a sharp, though politely expressed

difference of opinion between us. I argued very naturally that since

the servant was in our pay there was no danger to be apprehended within

the house, and that I was as safe in the parlour as anywhere. In his

mystery-making, ultra-cautious way, he insisted that a visitor _might_

appear (he even suggested the police--though he had just previously

said they had no suspicion!) and that he was going to run no risks.

Eileen said a word on his side--though with a very kind look at me--and

I consented to go. And then he requested me to stay there for the rest

of the evening! Again Eileen saved a strained situation, and I said

farewell stiffly to him and very differently to her; in fact I made a

point of accentuating the difference.

I reached my room, lit a cigar, and for a time paced the floor in a

state of mind which I found hard to analyse. I can only say that my

feelings were both mixed and strong, and that at last, to give me

relief, I sat down to write my narrative, and by nine o'clock in the

evening had brought it up nearly to this point.

By that time of course the curtains were drawn and my lamp was lit, and

as it was a windy chilly night, my fire was blazing brightly. Higher

and higher rose the wind till it began to make a very heavy and

constant booming in the chimney, like distant salvoes of great guns.

Apart from the wind the old house was utterly quiet, and when the

wooden stair suddenly creaked I dropped my pen and sat up very sharply.

More and more distinctly I heard a firm but light tread coming up and

up, until at last it ceased on the landing. And then came a gentle tap

upon my door.

VII.

AT NIGHT.

With a curious sense of excitement I crossed the room. I opened the

door--and there stood Eileen. She had taken off her hat, and without

it looked even more beautiful, for what hat could rival her masses of

dark hair so artfully arranged and yet with a rippling wave all through

them that utterly defied restraint?

"May I come in for a little?" she said.

She asked in such a friendly smiling way, so modest and yet so

unafraid, that even the greatest Don Juan could not have mistaken her

honest intention.

"I shall be more than charmed to have your company," I said.

"I'm afraid we soon forget the conventionalities in our service," she

said simply. "Tiel has gone out, and I was getting very tired of my

own company."

"Imagine how tired I have got of mine!" I cried.

She gave a little understanding nod.

"It must be dreadfully dull for you," she agreed with great

sincerity--and she added, as she seated herself in my wicker chair, "I

have another excuse for calling on you, and that is, that the more

clearly we all three understand what we are doing, the better. Don't

you think so?"

"Decidedly! In fact I only wish we all thought the same."

She looked at me inquiringly, and yet as though she comprehended quite

well.

"You mean----?"

"Well, to be quite frank, I mean Tiel. He is very clever, and he knows

his work. Mein Gott, we can teach him nothing! And perhaps he trusts

you implicitly and is quite candid. But he certainly tells me no more

than he can help."

"He tells nobody more than he can help," she said. "You are no worse

treated than any one else he works with. But it is a little annoying

sometimes."

"For instance, do you know what he is doing to-night?" I asked.

There was no mistaking the criticism in the little shrug with which she

replied--

"I half suspect he is walking about in the dark by himself just to make

me think he is busy on some mysterious affair!"

"Do you actually mean that?" I exclaimed.

"No, no," she said hastily, "not really quite that! But he sometimes

tempts one to say these things."

"Have you worked with him often before?"

"Enough to know his little peculiarities." She smiled suddenly. "Oh,

he is a very wonderful man, is my dear brother!"

Again I was delighted (I confess it shamelessly!) to hear that

unmistakable note of criticism.

"'Wonderful' may have several meanings," I suggested.

"It has in his case," she said frankly. "He really is extraordinarily

clever."

She added nothing more, but the implication was very clear that the

other meanings were not quite so flattering. I felt already that this

strange little household was divided into two camps, and that Eileen

and I were together in one.

"But we have talked enough about Herr Tiel!" she exclaimed in a

different voice. "Because we really can get no further. It is like

discussing what is inside a locked box! We can trust his judgment in

this business; I think you will agree to that."

"Oh yes," I said, "I have seen enough to respect his abilities very

thoroughly."

"Then," said she, "let us talk of something more amusing."

"Yourself," I said frankly, though perhaps a little too boldly, for she

did not respond immediately. I felt that I had better proceed more

diplomatically.

"I was wondering whether you were a pure German," I added.

"My feelings towards Germany are as strong as yours, Mr Belke," she

answered. "Indeed I don't think any one can be more loyal to their

country than I am, but I am not purely German by blood. My mother was

Irish, hence my name--Eileen."

"Then that is your real name?" I cried, between surprise and delight.

"Yes, that is the one genuine thing about me," she smiled.

"But if you are half English----"

"Irish," she corrected.

"Ah!" I cried. "I see--of course! I was going to ask whether your

sympathies were not at all divided. But Irish is very different. Then

you hate the English with a double hatred?"

"With one or two exceptions--friends I have made--I abhor the whole

race I am fighting against quite as much as you could possibly wish me

to! Indeed, I wish it were fighting and not merely plotting!"

There was an earnestness and intensity in her voice and a kindling of

her eye as she said this that thrilled and inspired me like a trumpet.

"We shall defeat them--never fear!" I cried. "We shall trample on the

pride of England. It will be hard to do, but I have no doubt as to the

result; have you?"

"None," she said, quietly but with absolute confidence.

Then that quick smile of hers, a little grave but very charming, broke

over her face.

"But let us get away for a little from war," she said. "You aren't

smoking. Please do, if you wish to."

I lit a cigarette, and offered one to her, but she said she did not

smoke. And I liked her all the better. We talked more lightly for a

while, or perhaps I should rather say less earnestly, for our situation

did not lend itself to frivolity. It did lend itself however to

romance,--we two sitting on either side of the peat fire, with a shaded

lamp and the friendly flames throwing odd lights and shadows through

the low, primitive room with its sloping attic-like walls and its

scanty furniture; and the wind all the while tempestuously booming in

the chimney and scouring land and sea. And neither on land nor sea was

there a single friend; surrounded by enemies who would have given a

heavy price to have learned who sat in that room, we talked of many

things.

At last, all too soon, she rose and wished me good-night. A demon of

perversity seized me.

"I shall escort you down to Mr Tiel, and the devil take his

precautions!" I exclaimed.

"Oh no," she protested. "After all he is in command."

She really seemed quite concerned at my intention, but I can be very

obstinate when I choose.

"Tuts!" I said. "It is sheer rubbish to pretend that there is any risk

at this time of night. Probably he is still out, and anyhow he will

not have visitors at this hour."

She looked at me very hard and quickly as if to see if I were possible

to argue with, and then she gave a little laugh and merely said--

"You are terribly wilful, Mr Belke!"

And she ran downstairs very quickly, as though to run away from me. I

followed fast, but she was some paces ahead of me as we went down the

dark passage to the front of the house. And then suddenly I heard

guarded voices, and stopped dead.

There was a bend in the passage just before it reached the hall, and

Eileen had passed this while I had not, and so I could see nothing

ahead. Then I heard the voice of Tiel say--

"Well?"

It was a simple word of little significance, but the voice in which it

was said filled me with a very unpleasant sensation. The man spoke in

such a familiar, confidential way that I suddenly felt I could have

shot him cheerfully. For the instant I forgot the problem of the other

voice I had heard.

"Mr Belke is with me! He insisted," she cried.

At this I knew that the unknown voice could not belong to an enemy, and

I advanced again. As I passed the bend in the passage I was just in

time to see Tiel closing the front door behind a man in a long dark

coat with a gleam of brass buttons, and to hear him say,

"Good-night, Ashington."

Eileen passed into the parlour with a smiling glance for me to follow,

and Tiel came in after us. I was not in the most pleasant temper. In

fact, for some reason I was in a very black humour.

"I thought you had gone out," I said to him at once.

"I did go out."

"But now I understand that the worthy Captain Ashington has been

visiting you here!"

"Both these remarkable events have occurred," said Tiel drily.

When I recalled how long Eileen had been up in my room, I realised that

this was quite possible, but this did not, for some reason, soothe me.

"Why did he come?" I asked.

"The fleet is going out on Friday."

"Aha!" I exclaimed, forgetting my annoyance for the moment.

"So that is settled at last," said Tiel with a satisfied smile.

He happened to turn his smile on Eileen also, and my annoyance returned.

"You dismissed our dear friend Ashington very quickly when you heard me

coming," I remarked in no very amiable tone.

Tiel looked at me gravely.

"Belke," he said, "you might quite well have done serious mischief by

showing your dislike for Ashington so palpably the other day. Even a

man of that sort has feelings. I have soothed them, I am glad to say,

but he was not very anxious to meet you again."

"So much the better!" said I. "Traitors are not the usual company a

German officer keeps."

"Many of us have to mix with strange company nowadays, Mr Belke," said

Eileen.

Her sparkling eye and her grave smile disarmed me instantly. I felt

suddenly conscious I was not playing a very judicious part, or showing

myself perhaps to great advantage. So I bade them both good-night and

returned to my room.

But it was not to go to bed. For two mortal hours I paced my floor,

and thought and thought, but not about any problem of the war. I kept

hearing Tiel's "Well," spoken in that hatefully intimate way, and then

remembering that those two were alone--all night!--in the front part of

the house, far out of sound or reach of me. I did not doubt Eileen for

an instant, but that calm, cool, cosmopolitan adventurer, who could

knock an unsuspecting clergyman on the head and throw him over a cliff,

and then tell the story with a smile,--what was he not capable of?

Again and again I asked myself why it concerned me. This was a girl I

had only known for hours. But her smile was the last thing I saw

before I fell asleep at length about three o'clock in the morning.

VIII.

THE DECISION.

In the morning I came down to breakfast without asking anybody's leave,

and I looked at those two very hard. To see Eileen fresh and calm and

smiling gave me the most intense relief, while, as for Tiel, he looked

as cool and imperturbable as he always did--and I cannot put it

stronger than that, for nothing more cool and imperturbable than Tiel

ever breathed. In fact it could not have breathed, for it would have

had to be a graven image.

He looked at me critically, but all he said was--

"If it wasn't too wet for your nice uniform, Belke, we might have had

breakfast on the lawn."

"You are afraid some one may come and look in at this window?" I asked.

"On the whole there is rather more risk of that than of some one

climbing up to look in at your bedroom window," said he.

"You think a great deal of risks," I observed.

"Yes," said he. "I am a nervous man."

Eileen laughed merrily, and I could not but confess that for once he

had scored. I resolved not to give him the chance again. He then

proceeded to draw the table towards one end of the room, pulled the

nearest curtain part way across, and then locked the front door. But I

made no comments this time.

At breakfast Eileen acted as hostess, and so charming and natural was

she that the little cloud seemed to blow over, and we all three

discussed our coming plan of attack on the fleet fully and quite

freely. Tiel made several suggestions, which he said he had been

discussing with Ashington, and, as they seemed extremely sound, I made

notes of them and promised to lay them before Wiedermann.

When we had finished and had a smoke, Tiel rose and said he must go out

"on parish business." I asked him what he meant, and learned to my

amusement that in his capacity of the Rev. Alexander Burnett he had to

attend a meeting of what he called the "kirk-session." We both

laughed, and wished him good luck, and then before he left he said--

"You had better get back to your room, Belke. Remember we are here on

_business_."

And with that he put on his black felt hat, and bade us lock the front

door after him, and if anybody called, explain that it was to keep the

wind from shaking it. I must say he thought of these small points very

thoroughly.

The suggestion in his last words that I was placing something else

before my duty stung me a little. I was not going to let Tiel see that

they had any effect, but as soon as he had gone I rose and said to

Eileen--

"It is quite clear that I ought to return to my room. I have notes to

write up, and several things to do before to-night."

"Then you are really going to leave us to-night?" said she; "I am very

sorry."

So was I. Indeed, the thought of leaving her--probably for ever--would

have been bitter enough in any case, but to leave her alone with Tiel

was maddening. It had troubled me greatly last night, yet the thought

of remaining was one I did not really care to face.

"I fear I must," I replied, in a voice which must have revealed

something of what I felt.

"Tiel told me you absolutely refused to listen to him when he wished

you to remain."

"Oh no!" I cried. "That is putting it far too strongly. I offered to

put the case to Commander Wiedermann, and then Tiel at once assumed I

was going to leave him, and told me to say no more about it."

"Really! That is somewhat extraordinary!" she exclaimed in rather a

low voice, as though she were much struck with this. She had been

standing, and she sat as she spoke. I felt that she wished to go

further into this matter, and I sat down again too.

"What is extraordinary about it?" I asked.

"Do you mean to say that Tiel didn't press you?"

"No," I said.

"Mr Belke," she said earnestly, "I know enough of the orders under

which we are acting and the plans that Tiel has got to further, to be

quite certain that you were intended to stay and assist him. It is

_most_ important."

"You are quite sure of this?"

"Absolutely."

"Then why did Tiel give up trying to persuade me so readily? Why

didn't he try to use more authority?"

"I wonder," she said in a musing tone, and yet I could see from her eye

that she had an idea.

"You know!" I exclaimed. "Tell me what is in your mind!"

Already I guessed, but I dared not put it into words.

"It is difficult to guess Tiel's motives--exactly," she said rather

slowly.

I felt I had to say it outright.

"Are you his motive?" I demanded.

She looked at me quickly, but quite candidly.

"I scarcely like to say--or even think such a thing, but----"

She broke off, and I finished her sentence for her.

"But you know he admires you, and is not the man to stick at anything

in order to get what he wants."

"Ah! Don't be unjust to him," she answered; and then in a different

voice added, "But to think of his letting you go like that!"

"So it was to get rid of me, and have you alone here with him?"

"He must have had some motive," she admitted, "for you _ought_ to stay."

"I shall stay!" I said.

She gave me her brightest smile.

"Really? Oh, how good of you! Or rather--how brave of you, for it is

certainly running a risk."

If I had been decided before, I was doubly decided now.

"It is not the German navy's way to fear risks," I said. "It is my

duty to stay--for two reasons--and I am going to stay!"

"And Commander Wiedermann?"

"I shall simply tell him I am under higher orders, given me by Herr

Tiel."

"If you added that there is a second plan directed against the British

navy, and that you are needed to advise on the details, it might help

to convince Commander Wiedermann how essential your presence here is,"

she suggested.

"Yes," I agreed, "it would be well to mention that."

"Also," she said, "you would require to have all the details of this

first plan so fully written out that he would not need to keep you to

explain anything."

"You think of everything!" I cried with an admiration I made no

pretence of concealing. "I shall go now and set to work."

"Do!" she cried, "and when Tiel comes in I shall tell him you are going

to stay. I wonder what he will say!"

"I wonder too," said I. "But do you care what he says?"

"No," she replied, "because of course he won't say it. He will only

think."

"Let him think!" I laughed.

I went back to my room in a strange state of exhilaration for a man who

had just decided to forgo the thing he had most looked forward to, and

run a horrible risk instead. For I felt in my bones that uniform or no

uniform I should be shot if I were caught. I put little trust in

English justice or clemency. But, as I said before, when I am

obstinate, I am very obstinate; and I was firmly resolved that if

Wiedermann wanted me back on board to-night, he would have to call a

guard and carry me! However, acting on Eileen's suggestions, I had

little doubt I should convince him. And thereupon I set to work on my

notes. By evening I had everything so fully written out and so clearly

explained that I felt I could say with a clear conscience that even my

own presence at a council of war could add no further information.

In the course of the day I had a talk with Tiel, and, just as Eileen

had anticipated, he left one to guess at what was in his mind. He

certainly professed to be glad I had changed my mind, and he thanked me

with every appearance of cordiality.

"You are doing the right thing, Belke," he said. "And, let me tell

you, I appreciate your courage."

There was a ring of evident sincerity in his voice as he said this, and

whatever I might think of the man's moral character, a compliment from

Tiel on one's courage was not a thing to despise.

In the late afternoon he set out to obtain a motor-car for the

evening's expedition, but through what ingenious machinery of lies he

got it, I was too busy to inquire.

Finally, about ten o'clock at night we sat down to a little supper, my

pockets bulging with my notes, and my cyclist's overalls lying ready to

be donned once more.

IX.

ON THE SHORE.

Soon after eleven o'clock two dark figures slipped unostentatiously out

of the back door, and a moment later a third followed them. My heart

leapt with joy and surprise at the sight of it, and Tiel stopped and

turned.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I'm coming too," said Eileen.

"Why?" he demanded in that tone of his which seemed to call upon the

questioned to answer with exceeding accuracy.

"Because I'd like a drive," she answered, with a woman's confidence

that her reason is good enough for anybody.

"As you please," he said, drily and with unfathomable calm; and then he

turned again, and in a voice that betrayed his interest in her, asked,

"What have you got on?"

"Quite enough, thank you."

"You are sure? I've lent my spare coat to Belke, but I can get another

rug."

"I am quite sure," she smiled.

More than ever I felt glad I was staying beside her.

Tiel sat in front and drove, and Eileen and I got in behind. He

offered no objections to this arrangement, though as she seated herself

while he was starting the engine, he was certainly not given much

choice. And then with a deep purr we rolled off into the night.

There would be no moon till getting on towards morning, but the rain

had luckily ceased and the wind fallen, and overhead the stars were

everywhere breaking through the last wisps of cloud. Already they gave

light enough to distinguish sea from land quite plainly, and very soon

they faintly lit the whole wide treeless countryside. The car was a

good one, however Tiel had come by it, and the engine was pulling well,

and we swept along the lonely roads at a great pace, one bare telegraph

post after another flitting swiftly out of the gloom ahead into the

gloom behind, and the night air rushing against our faces. At first I

looked round me and recognised some features of the way we had come,

the steep hill, and the sound that led to the western ocean, and the

dark mass of hills beyond, but very soon my thoughts and my eyes alike

had ceased to wander out of the car.

We said little, just enough to serve as an excuse for my looking

constantly at her profile, and, the longer I looked, admiring the more

every line and every curve. All at once she leaned towards me and said

in a low beseeching voice--

"You will come back, won't you?"

"I swear it!" I answered fervently, and to give force to my oath I

gently took her hand and pressed it. If it did not return the

pressure, it at least did not shrink from my clasp. And for the rest

of the way I sat holding it.

Presently I in turn leaned towards her and whispered--

"One thing I have been wondering. Should I take Tiel with me to see

Wiedermann? It might perhaps be expected."

"No!" she replied emphatically.

"You feel sure?"

For reply she very gently pressed my hand at last. So confident did I

feel of her sure judgment that I considered that question settled.

"By the way," she said in a moment, "I think perhaps it might be

advisable to say nothing to Commander Wiedermann about me. It is quite

unnecessary, and he--well, some men are always suspicious if they think

there is a woman in the case. Of course I admit they sometimes have

enough excuse, but--what do you think?"

"I agree with you entirely," I said emphatically.

I know Wiedermann very intimately, and had been divided in mind whether

I should drop a little hint that there were consolations, or whether I

had better not. Now I saw quite clearly I had better not.

"What's that?" said Eileen in a moment.

It was a tall gaunt monolith close to the roadside, and then, looking

round, I saw a loch on the other side, and remembered the spot with a

start. It was close by here that my cycle had broken down, and we were

almost at the end of our drive. Round the corner we swung, straight

for the sea, until we stopped where the road ended at the edge of the

links.

I gave Eileen's hand one last swift pressure, and jumped out.

"We shall wait for you here," said Tiel in a low voice, "but don't be

longer than you can help. Remember my nerves!"

He spoke so cheerily and genially, that for the moment I liked him

again. In fact, if it had not been for Eileen, and his love of

mystery, there was much that was very attractive in Tiel. As I set out

on my solitary walk down to the shore, I suddenly wondered what made

him so cheerful and bright at this particular moment, for it did not

strike me as an exhilarating occasion. And then I was reminded of the

man I had known most like Tiel, a captain I once served under, who was

silence and calmness itself at most times, but grew strangely genial on

critical occasions--a heaven-sent gift. But from Tiel's point of view,

what was critical about this moment? The risk he ran at this hour in

such an isolated spot was almost negligible, and as to the other

circumstances, did it matter much to him whether I stayed or changed my

mind and went away? I could scarcely believe it.

I kept along by the side of the sandy track, just as I had done before,

only this time I did not lose it. The rolling hummocky links were a

little darker, but the stars shone in myriads, bright and clear as a

winter's night, and I could see my way well enough. As I advanced, I

smelt the same pungent seaweed odour, and heard the same gulls crying,

disturbed (I hoped) by the same monster in the waters. Fortunately the

storm had blown from the south-east, and the sea in this

westward-facing bay heaved quietly, reflecting the radiance of the

stars. It was another perfect night for our purpose.

I reached the shore and turned to the left along the rising

circumference of the bay, looking hard into the night as I went.

Something dark lay on the water, I felt certain of it, and presently

something else dark and upright loomed ahead. A moment later I had

grasped Wiedermann by the hand. He spoke but a word of cordial

greeting, and then turned to descend to the boat.

"We'll get aboard before we talk," said he.

The difficult moment had come. Frankly, I had dreaded it a little, but

it had to be faced and got over.

"I am not coming aboard to-night, sir," I replied.

He turned and stared at me.

"Haven't you settled anything?" he demanded.

"Something," I said, "but there is more to be done."

I told him then concisely and clearly what we had arranged, and handed

him the chart and all my notes. That he was honestly delighted with my

news, and satisfied with my own performance, there could be no doubt.

He shook me warmly by the hand and said--

"Splendid, Belke! I knew we could count on you! It's lucky you have a

chest broad enough to hold all your decorations! For you will get

them--never doubt it. But what is all this about staying on shore?

What else are you needed for? And who the devil has given you such

orders?"

"Herr Tiel," I said. "I was placed under his orders, as you will

remember, sir."

"But what does he want you for? And how long does he imagine the

British are going to let you stay in this house of yours unsuspected?

They are not idiots! It seems to me you have been extraordinarily

lucky to have escaped detection so far. Surely you are not going to

risk a longer stay?"

"If it is my duty I must run the risk."

"But is it your duty? I am just wondering, Belke, whether I can spare

you, with this attack coming on, and whether I ought to override Herr

Tiel's orders and damn the consequences!"

I knew his independence and resolution, but just at that moment there

passed before my mind's eye such a distinct, sweet picture of Eileen,

that I was filled with a resolution and independence even greater than

his.

"If it were not my duty, sir," I said firmly, "clearly and strongly

pointed out by Herr Tiel, I should never dream of asking you to spare

me for a little longer."

"He was then very clear and strong on the question?"

"Extremely."

"And this other scheme of his--do you feel yourself that it is feasible

enough to justify you in leaving your ship and running such a terrible

risk? Remember, you will be a man lost to Germany!"

I have put down exactly what he said, though it convicts me of having

departed a little from the truth when I answered--

"Yes, it will justify the risk."

After all, I had confidence enough in Tiel's abilities to feel sure

that I was really justified in saying this; but I determined to press

him for some details of his plans to-morrow.

Wiedermann stood silent for a moment; then he held out his hand and

said in a sad voice--

"Good-bye! But my mind misgives me. I fear we may never meet again."

"That is nonsense, sir!" I cried as cheerfully as I could. "We shall

meet again very soon. And if you wish something to cheer you, just

study those plans!"

And so we parted, he descending the bank without another word, and I

setting out along the path that by now was beginning to feel quite

familiar. I did not even pause to look back this time. My boats were

burnt and I felt it was better to hurry on without dwelling longer on

the parting. Besides, there was a meeting awaiting me.

When I reached the end of the road, I found that Tiel had been spending

the time in turning the car, and now he and Eileen stood beside it, but

apparently not conversing.

"All right?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "I met Wiedermann and gave him all the plans."

He merely nodded and went to start the engine. Again I was forcibly

reminded of my old captain, and the way in which he became calmer and

more silent than ever the moment the crisis was passed. But surely

this crisis had been mine and not his! Anyhow, I felt a singularly

strong sense of reaction and seated myself beside Eileen without a

word. We had gone for a little way on our homeward road before either

of us spoke, and then it was to exchange some quite ordinary remark. I

put out my hand gently, but hers was nowhere to be found, and this

increased my depression. I fell very silent, and then suddenly, when

we were nearly back, I exclaimed--

"I wonder whether you are really glad that I returned?"

"Very!" she said, and there was such deep sincerity in her voice that

the cloud began to lift at once.

Yet I was not in high spirits when I re-entered my familiar room.