Plots within Plots
"You're sure--certain, Private Dan Holman?" the Divisional Commander
asked him for perhaps the twentieth time, some two or three days after
that parade which had followed the discovery of the presence of a spy
in the midst of this particular American division. "Certain you'd
recognize him? Remember, boy, you caught only one single glimpse of
him, and that under torchlight. A man looks queer under the glare of a
searchlight--different from what he looks under the moonbeams."
Dan gulped. Even an American soldier, with all that assurance born
of the freedom of the vast country in which he lives, may feel
disconcerted under the gaze of a superior officer, indeed under the
gaze--the almost incredulous gaze--of a number of officers. Dan gulped,
therefore, but his eyes, steadily fixed on those of the Commanding
Officer, never wavered.
"Sure, sir," he answered. "It sounds queer, I know, but I've laid in
bed thinking it over, and I'm as sure as sure--surer than I was when I
first came along with the information. That man that came down in the
aeroplane--for I take it he was dropped, as the Germans have dropped
spies before--was the same man that shot the father of a chum of mine
way back in a saloon by the copper-mine near Salt Lake City, the same
chap as drilled me through with a bullet from a revolver. I ain't
dreamin'; the thing's sure; and the fellow's somewhere about in these
parts dressed in our uniform."
A long and secret discussion followed. Dan was closeted with the
Intelligence Branch of the division for many hours, and on more
than one occasion, and thereafter, though the life of the camp was
unaltered, though nothing untoward seemed to be occurring, and though
the ordinary rank and file and their officers were entirely ignorant of
what had been or of the suspicions in their Commanding Officer's mind
that a spy was lurking in the neighbourhood, active steps were being
taken to come upon Heinrich Hilker.
"We'll telephone along to the other commanders, and notify the French
and the British; we'll get every billet, every hut, even the woods
searched. If the chap's in the neighbourhood we'll see if we can ferret
out the hiding-place he's selected. Gee! it makes me feel uneasy to
think that there's a spy somewhere here--a fellow that knows all about
us Americans. What's more, it makes me feel worse to believe that he's
got an accomplice; for otherwise how could he have slipped through
our clutches when we guessed his presence within a few minutes of his
arrival?"
Up and down the line, from the trenches to a point some miles behind,
French and British and American military police and Intelligence
branches caused the closest search to be made--a search which naturally
enough included that church in which Heinrich Hilker and Alphonse,
a spy like himself, had taken shelter. But granted that Heinrich
himself was cunning, Alphonse was still more so. One of that band of
individuals sent out broadcast by Germany to penetrate peacefully the
countries of their neighbours, to prepare the ground in case of a
German invasion, and to keep Berlin informed as to all local affairs
and on every matter of importance, Alphonse had lived the life of a
schemer for many years. He, in fact, chuckled on numerous occasions at
the ease with which he had hoodwinked the simple peasants with whom he
had taken up his residence. Even in his cups he had, as a general rule,
been extraordinarily careful and crafty; and now, as he went his way,
unsuspected by the Americans, his craft and his guile allowed of his
throwing dust in their eyes also.
"You've got to stay here," he told his accomplice as he visited him one
night in his lair at the top of the tower. "Here's better than anywhere
else, because every billet is being searched. There isn't a hut, an
outhouse, or any farm or hovel in these parts and right along the line
that isn't being looked into. They've been to the church, too, but----"
and then he began to cackle, that horrid cackle which grated upon
Heinrich's nerves so much.
"But!" the latter ejaculated curtly; "what then? How is this place
secure? Tell me," he asked anxiously; for indeed he had observed much
coming and going of American soldiers, had seen staff cars arriving
bearing French and British officers, and, though that was no unusual
occurrence, he could guess from the bustle which he could see and note
from his peep-hole, that something unusual was happening.
"But----" began Alphonse again, crouching beside the spy, his huge
knuckles taut as he clenched his fists, "but----" and then cackled once
more, so that Heinrich could have hit him so great was his vexation.
"But--you fool! Go on!"
"S--sh! Steady! Men down below, I hear them."
Heinrich had heard not so much as a sound, but the crafty villain
beside him had spent years in eavesdropping--in listening and avoiding
people whom it was undesirable he should meet--and now, above the
gentle rustle of the straw in which he lay, he heard the distinct
murmur of voices, the slip and slither of booted feet, the sound of men
in the body of the church. He lifted a finger to his lips, and, turning
silently with a snake-like movement, bent over the square opening
leading to the loft. Lights were flashing down below. He could see
men walking about, catching only a glimpse of them as the flash of an
electric torch settled upon their figures. He heard steps on the broken
and wrecked stone stairs which led to the chamber down below, and
then he became active. Those powerful if attenuated arms of his were
stretched out, the two hands gripped the rickety ladder by which he had
ascended, and swiftly, yet with the utmost care and silence, he drew it
upward. To cover the opening with some straw was an easy matter, and
presently, long before the American soldiers arrived in the chamber
referred to, the square through which Alphonse had entered Heinrich's
hiding-place had been, as it were, obliterated. So much so, that though
the light was cast upward, the broken boards above, the wisps of straw
dangling through the crevice, the wrecked appearance of the place, in
fact the very stars visible through the shattered tiles above, and the
lack of all means of reaching this aerie, persuaded the searchers that
no spy could be lurking there.
"Empty--sure!" came a voice. "'Taint likely that he's here. Looks as
though the tower might fall to pieces any moment. So down we go! Easy
with it, boys, those stairs take a lot of climbing."
Sounds receded. Footsteps were heard again in the body of the church.
Lights flashed hither and thither and then disappeared. Silence
followed, except that from outside came again the murmur of voices
as the soldiers departed. Heinrich breathed freely once more, while
Alphonse gave vent to a deep-throated, husky cackle.
"And so I cheated 'em time and again," he breathed, his eyes riveted
now to a crevice between the tiles through which he could see the
search-party of the Americans receding, "cheated 'em--these fools of
French peasants--same as I'll cheat the soldiers down below, and help
Germany to gain Paris--to gain Paris," he repeated, this time with
something approaching a hiss, his eyes flashing. "Paris, my friend
Heinrich!"
His companion, who a little while before had shrunk from contact with
this bony, attenuated scoundrel, and who, to speak the truth, was half
fearful of him, now actually put up with a grip of his fingers as they
closed round his arm, and, crouching on his knees, Heinrich Hilker
repeated that word.
"Ah!" he said, "Paris! Paris!--ah! that is the aim we have! But
listen, Alphonse! We failed to drive a wedge between the British and
the French, we failed to reach the Channel ports, but there is always
Paris--the heart of France and the French people. Let us but reach it,
let us but get our fingers about it, and--ah!--and we will strangle the
life out of these Frenchmen."
His eyes blazed. Sitting there he gripped his two hands together,
squeezing the palms and interlocking his fingers, feeling as though he
had already a strangling grip upon our gallant ally. Thereafter the
two lay quietly together discussing matters in whispers, and had there
been someone at hand to hear their words, what a commotion would have
resulted when the information was transmitted to the Americans and sent
to the French and British armies. For Heinrich had penetrated into
the Allied line with the knowledge that presently Germany was to try
another onslaught. His duty it was to obtain further and more intimate
information, and once he had secured it he was to return by any means
available and repeat that information to the German High Command.
But the time had not yet arrived. So close was the hunt for Heinrich,
thanks to the report which Dan Holman had given his Commanding Officer,
that he was held a close prisoner in the tower, and would have starved,
indeed, had it not been for the crafty and creeping Alphonse.
"But never mind," he told the latter one day some two weeks later.
"Thanks to this note which one of our aeroplanes dropped, and which you
brought to me, I know that our people are prepared. The blow will fall
shortly; not, you understand, my friend, the great blow--the big blow
that will take us and our armies to Paris--but the preliminary one,
just to open the way, to give us elbow room, to let us bring on the
forces which will then dash on to the city. Alphonse, that will be the
time for you. Dream of it--a German army in Paris! Think of what you
and I will do! Think of the loot!--of the gold! of the jewels!--think!"
The big, bony rascal beside him sat up abruptly to think. His eyes were
sunken, only half filling the enormous sockets, and they were staring
out into the darkness of the farthest corner of the tower. "Ah!" the
wretch gasped, and, catching a fleeting glance of him a moment later,
Heinrich felt almost alarmed, for those staring, sunken eyes had a
suspicion of madness in them; the man's intent face, his hook-like
nose, his parted lips and gaping nostrils made him look like a vampire,
and then the hoarse dry cackle which followed completed the illusion.
Heinrich shuddered.
"The man is mad," he thought; "he is a devil. He lives for gain, and
would perpetrate any cruelty to make money. Well, soon I shall be quit
of him; soon he will have carried out his purpose, and I shall have
no further need of him. That will be a good day. I am tired of this
dog-kennel."
They became bolder as the days passed and search on the part of the
Americans practically ceased. They wormed out numerous secrets, and by
means of craftily-arranged signals, and with the help of an aeroplane
which once more descended close to the tower, they transmitted
information to the enemy. It was then that of a sudden the Germans
flung themselves upon the Chemin des Dames, which overlooks the
Aisne River, and thrust forward across the ground where the British
Expeditionary Force of 1914, that "contemptible" yet ever glorious
army, fought its way across the river. They swept south to Fère en
Tardenois, and even gained the Marne, though they were unable to cross
it. Yet they had achieved a huge success, a sudden advance, which
caused stores and guns and men to fall into their clutches, and which
won for them a closer approach to Paris, now but thirty-five miles
distant, indeed but half the distance of the range of those gigantic
guns humorously called "Big Berthas", able to project shot seventy
miles, which for weeks past had been playing upon Paris.
It was the first milestone, one may say, on the road to the capital
city of France. A success to be followed up as rapidly and violently
as possible. It was a time when information of French military
preparations to protect their beloved city would be of the utmost
assistance to the Germans, and a time, therefore, when the activities
of Heinrich and Alphonse redoubled.
"We must get through! We must find our way past these American curs to
the Marne, and so into the German lines. These American curs, I tell
you," Heinrich said, "they suspect something. The search-parties are
about again, and for me, I feel that if we remain here longer we shall
be taken. So to-night we move on. You agree?"
He cast a half-nervous glance over his shoulder, for, to tell the
truth, longer acquaintance with Alphonse had made him even more fearful
of that strong, uncouth individual; and what wonder? For the strained
life which this agent of the German Government had lived so many years
among the people of France had tended to throw him off his mental
balance; loneliness had preyed upon his mind, and those frequent visits
to the cabaret had not assisted to retain his mental powers in equal
balance. There were times, though Heinrich hardly guessed it, when
Alphonse raved, when he was apt to be violent, when that dry, harsh,
cruel chuckle of his became the scream of a madman. Now, as Heinrich
turned upon him, the man was kneeling up, bent forward and leaning
upon his closed fists--those huge, bony fists of his--his chin pushed
forward, his lips agape and teeth showing, his sunken eyes staring at
nothing in particular. He chuckled hoarsely, and then turned swiftly
upon the German.
"The time--" he said, "the time to return, to cross the Marne to our
people--yes, for you, Heinrich, but for me, no!"
"For you, no?" the other asked incredulously; "but----"
"But Paris, man," Alphonse gurgled.
"Paris! of course, of course!" Heinrich laughed, though there was
little merriment in his tone. "Of course, later on, with our comrades
as they advance over the Marne. In the meanwhile you are the man to
guide me back to them."
The big, sprawling, bony figure of the man beside him was jerked upward
and that pugnacious chin shot towards Heinrich Hilker, while the
deep-set eyes gleamed--gleamed dangerously.
"What, leave Paris! the loot!" the man gasped, as if the news astounded
him. "Direct you over the Marne to our comrades! Get behind the
advanced lines of our troops, and so reach Paris after they have
entered! What, lose that splendid opportunity! Man--!" and Alphonse
brought a huge, bony hand down on Heinrich's shoulder, making the
spy wince. "Man, it's a moment I have lived for--dreamed of night and
day--this pillage of Paris. Why, I have been there a hundred times and
have marked out the way of entry, the path I would take first of all,
the spot for which I would make, the spot where---- Listen, listen,
man!" he whispered in his rusty voice; "the place where all the gold
and the jewels are concentrated. It will be a haul. A bomb to burst in
the door, no _poilus_ to intervene, none of these infernal soldiers
to shoot at you, no fear of watchers--a plain straightforward action,
careless of who looks on. A bomb I say--the door burst in--then a dive
in amongst the riches--jewels, man, sparkling jewels--pockets filled in
five minutes--afterwards, wealth--wealth of a Crœsus!"
Heinrich was peering round at his companion now--peering in a cunning,
half-frightened way, his eyes now and again turning to those sunken
orbs which stared into the farthest hole beneath the shattered tiles
of the church tower. He could feel the hand on his shoulder trembling;
the bony fingers closed and gripped him with such force that he could
have called out for pain. The man beside him was a maniac, he told
himself--a maniac to be got rid of at the first opportunity, but a
man to be handled carefully, to be cajoled, to be humoured until he
had carried out the work required of him, and "after that a shot will
finish the brute", Heinrich whispered, "a shot in the back. Once we are
across the Marne, and with our people, Alphonse shall go to a place
where he can dream on for ever. Only--ah, yes!"
[Illustration: THE MAN BESIDE HIM WAS A MANIAC, HE TOLD HIMSELF]
Heinrich Hilker's eyes sought the depths of that dark corner just as
Alphonse's had done. For a moment or so he became thoughtful, moody,
while the expression of his face denoted cunning, slyness--the cunning
of a man who has suddenly thought of something worth noting.
"And why not? A shot? Yes--in the back. But first this path into
Paris--a place full of riches. Alphonse may be crazy, but he is
a cunning fellow, and--yes, he has been thinking of Paris often.
Listen!" he said aloud a few moments later; "this scheme of yours,
Alphonse--splendid! magnificent! Riches beyond thought, and all
obtained in five minutes and quite openly, without fear of arrest. But
supposing the Army Commander places a guard on all public buildings,
and private also?"
"Ha!" Alphonse's face grew black--grew terrible, while his strong teeth
grated together. "Ha!" he grunted.
"But," went on Heinrich, "get back to our army now with this valuable
information and I can obtain a special pass which will send us ahead
with our advanced troops. You would not mind, Alphonse? For, as you
say, there are riches there to make both you and me rich beyond belief,
tell me--eh? We go back to our people now, and your chances of getting
that wealth will be improved. It is a magnificent suggestion."
It was. It captured the fancy of the madman beside him on the instant,
and set him rubbing his two big bony, attenuated hands together, while
the man sat up on his heels, and, still staring into that dark corner,
chuckled hoarsely, his rusty voice awaking the echoes of the deserted
tower.
See them then two days later creeping away from the place disguised as
peasants; watch them a day later dressed as _poilus_--the one driving
a cart in which Alphonse lay at full length, for no helmet, no blue
uniform, could disguise the bony Alphonse. See them far up towards the
Marne, and watch them as they take shelter in a hovel, already badly
battered by German guns, within easy reach of the river, within almost
calling distance of the Kaiser's troops on the far bank.
Let us look about the spot where those two ruffians had taken shelter.
Situated in "No-Man's-Land", under the German guns and under those of
the Allies, it offered no great security from shell-fire, though it
afforded as it were a jumping-off post from which anybody secreted
there might reach the Germans in one direction and the watching Allies
in the other. Yet, what a coincidence that Bill and Jim and the
inimitable Larry, with the formidable Nobby, too, close at hand, should
have almost at the same moment discovered a little dwelling, likewise
battered, within a hundred and fifty yards of that spot--Bill and his
friends, whose fortunes and misfortunes now claim our attention.