A few minutes later in his own room and by candle-light he set to work
to find a meaning for the arrangement of little pebbles "Crumbs" had
placed upon the foreshore. A dozen times he went over the dot-dash
lines in his pocket-book, and each time the hidden meaning intensified
in clarity. Finally, he began to write with a sudden vivid and
passionate interest.
The first word defined was "Oberst." Then he continued slowly and
carefully: "_Mistrauish und aufgeregt. Neue Minen karte in Haenden des
Capitans. Nicht moeglich es sofort zu finden. Von R. ist nichts zu
hoeren. Ganze geschichte schwierig. Bitte um antwort.--S_.
"So, friend 'Crumbs' is a German after all, and an educated German at
that," he exclaimed under his breath.
Then he took his pencil and began to translate the message. The result
in English was as follows:
"_Colonel suspicious and nervous. New mine chart in hands of naval
commander; impossible to find it at once. No news of R. Matters
difficult. Answer this.--S._"
John looked up with a grave face. Almost for the first time he felt a
doubt. In that moment he almost doubted even Dacent Smith's power to
cope with such subtlety, such ingenious co-ordination as this.
"Crumbs" was a spy actually in the heart of a vital fort, a spy who was
possibly one of a score, or a hundred, busy upon the South Coast at that
moment. John felt oppressed by a consciousness of dark agencies
planning evil. Here was no romance. Here was real, hard, solid fact;
War. Sims was an item in this warfare, one of a chain, of which
Manwitz, Cherriton, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, and the great unknown himself
were all separate links.
For some minutes John paced the narrow confines of his room.
Who was R. from whom no news had arrived? A sensation that calamity and
failure was possible bore in upon him. He had made a discovery truly,
but would that discovery mean the frustration of the mysterious attack
that was impending? He did not know, he hardly dared to hope.
"If Heatherpoint Fort were out of action," Colonel Hobin had said, "and
if Scoles Head were similarly out of action, there might be the devil to
pay."
John realised as he paced his little room with "Crumbs's" message in his
hand, that an attack by sea was planned. Otherwise why the mention of
the new mine chart? And if an attack by sea was intended on the great
naval port of ... Scoles and Heatherpoint must be first put out of
action. After that, the boom which ran across from Ponsonby Lighthouse
to ... must be overcome.
He looked again at the message.
"This must be got to Dacent Smith at once," thought he; "and in the
meantime 'Crumbs' must be watched."
He placed the message carefully in his pocket-book. Then, a new thought
having struck him, he hurried out and sought Sergeant Ewins. The
sergeant occupied one compartment of an old railway coach, which had
been turned into huts for the men. Ewins was lying on his bunk when
John entered, reading a Sunday paper by the light of a fort candle as
thick as a man's wrist.
"I want to have a word with you, Ewins," said John, sitting on the edge
of the chief gunner's bunk, which had formerly been a railway seat.
"Can you tell me," he went on, "if it is possible for anyone to make a
landing on the south shore, there? I mean in the bay below the
look-out."
"It's possible, of course," Ewins answered, "but risky."
"You don't think it possible," inquired John, "for a submarine to lie
out there in the bay and send a small canvas boat ashore?"
Ewins shook his head.
"You've forgotten our minefield--a submarine could not pass it, sir."
"No, I haven't forgotten that," answered John; "but suppose the Germans
know where our mines are?"
"Then they'd know more than we do, sir," answered Ewins. "Nobody in the
fort knows that, except the Commander, and perhaps the Colonel."
"The reason I am asking you," went on John, "is that I have discovered
something and want to give you an opportunity of coming down on the
shore with me."
"To-night, sir?" inquired Ewins.
John nodded.
"I suppose, Ewins, it seems fantastical and impossible to you, but I
have a theory that the Germans intend to bring a boat ashore there. In
my opinion, they have been there before to-night."
Ewins's eyes opened wide.
"Do you think that is so, sir?" he asked in a voice of deep amazement.
Then his eyes brightened. "I'd like to come with you, sir, if you think
there's any likelihood of that sort of thing."
"I don't only think it, I know it," said John. "It may not be to-night,
because of the full moon, nor to-morrow night. But some time or other,
and maybe soon, I am prepared to bet my hat that a German will land from
the sea. He will land, Ewins, in the bay below us, within a quarter of
a mile of where we are now sitting."
The manner in which Ewins took this information filled John with
satisfaction. The old soldier was spoiling for a fight. For four years
he had had nothing better to shoot at than a target, and he was longing
for a chance of real action.
Nevertheless John's fear was correct, for that night and the next night
the moon shone brilliantly, and nothing happened on the shore.
"Crumbs's" message lay unread in the bright moonlight. The third night,
however, the sky was overcast.
But by a sudden, swift turn of circumstances John was not there to see
what happened.
Manton's record on "Crumbs's" secret signal had been taken with the
utmost seriousness by Dacent Smith, and on the afternoon of the third
day, when John was alone at tea in the mess-room, an orderly thumped
along the passage.
"A gentleman to see you, sir," said the orderly.
"What's his name?" John asked.
"Captain Sinclair, sir."
John rose, and a minute later Captain X. stepped into the little room.
Captain X. was in uniform, and John noticed that he wore the Mons ribbon
and the D.S.O.
"Surprised to see me, eh?" exclaimed the young man, gripping John's hand
heartily; then dropping his voice, "I'm here from the Chief. Is it
quite private here?"
"Quite," John answered, "but I would rather take you into my room."
They went along the passage to John's bedroom. John seated himself on
the bed, and Captain X. or Sinclair occupied the only chair.
"The Chief's thoroughly stirred up," said Sinclair, plunging into his
subject without preliminary. "He has passed on your information to me.
I must say you seem to have all the luck, Treves. A signal on the
sands, eh? That beats everything for cunning. I have heard of clothes
being hung out in the Morse code, and Morse smoke signals from a
chimney--by the way, do you think your chap Sims signals with smoke from
his bakehouse?"
John shook his head.
"I have spent hours looking at his chimney," he said. "It was the first
thing I thought of when I began to suspect him, and it was only an
accident which made me get on to his real game after all. I knew any
kind of flash signal was out of the question here."
"Neatest thing they've done yet, eh, Treves? I must say this sort of
thing makes the fight full of zipp and go," he said. Then he looked at
John with a commiserating eye: "I am going to dash your spirits, old
chap."
"Well, get on with it," said John.
"I am going to pick up the plums you have shaken off the tree."
"How's that?"
For answer Sinclair drew an envelope from his pocket. John recognised
the colour and shape of the envelope in a minute. He read the short,
typed letter with gathered brows, then struck a match and destroyed it
carefully. The letter contained an order from Dacent Smith that John
should surrender his position at Heatherpoint to Captain X., and was to
resume work immediately against Cherriton, Dr. Voules, and Mrs. Beecher
Monmouth.
"It's rough luck, old chap," said Captain X., "but I expect that before
this big movement is finished you will have as much chance of adventure
as I shall."
"I hope so," said John. "But I was looking forward to the result of
'Crumbs's' signal. Last night the moon shone out of pure cussedness."
Captain X. sprang up to the window and looked out.
"It's clouding up to-night, old chap," he exclaimed joyously, "and
you'll be away for the fun. Hallo!" he said. His eyes were lowered and
were fixed upon a man in shirt-sleeves in the doorway opposite. "Is
that 'Crumbs'?"
"Yes," said John, "but don't let him see you looking at him. I am not
so sure that he hasn't spotted something."
"He'll spot something in a day or two," said Captain X., coming back
from the window, "and in the meantime the Chief's orders are to leave
him a long rope."
John's orders from his Chief were that he should report to Colonel Hobin
and leave Heatherpoint immediately. He began to change his clothes, and
talked to his companion at the same time.
"You can rub acquaintance with 'Crumbs' while I get out of the fort," he
said. "He mustn't see me in mufti. I shall spend a night in Newport,
and call on Dr. Voules to-morrow morning."
"Who do you think Voules is?" asked the Captain.
John shook his head.
"I shall know more about that to-morrow," he said.
When he was ready to go he shook hands cordially with his companion. He
always felt older than Captain X., though their ages were the same.
Captain X.'s audacity and joy in life amused John. His colleague always
put so much zest into everything he did.
"I should advise you," he said, gripping the Captain's hand, "to use
Ewins if you want any help on the beach to-night. He is an old soldier,
and I should think, if an awkward moment arrived, you could rely on
him."
"Thanks," said Sinclair. "This is a new game for me. I have never had
the chance of angling for a German submarine commander before, but I
expect there'll be one ashore here to-night, eh, Treves?"
"Somebody comes ashore," responded John, "and reads those signals."
He went out and sat in the mess-room for a few minutes, leaving Sinclair
time to occupy "Crumbs'" attention while he slipped away from the fort.