"Ah! if you would only heed my warning!"
"Haven't I promised to do so? I'm going to carry my revolver in
future."
"You take it as a huge joke!" she said in dissatisfaction, disengaging
herself slowly from his embrace.
"I do. Because I can't see why you should warn me. Who has put such
thoughts into your head? Surely I know how to take care of myself?" he
exclaimed.
"Perhaps you do. But that a grave danger threatens you, Jack, I happen
to know," was her serious reply.
"How do you know?" he asked quickly, facing her. He had, all along,
seen that, for some unaccountable reason, she was hesitating to tell him
the truth.
"Well," she said slowly, "if--if I tell you the truth, Jack dear, you
won't laugh at me, will you?" she asked at last.
"Of course not, my darling. I know full well that you love me, and, as
a natural consequence, you are perhaps a little too apprehensive."
"I have cause to be," she said in a low voice, and, taking from the
breast of her low-cut gown a crumpled letter, she handed it to him,
saying: "A week ago I received this! Read it!"
He took it and, opening it, found it to be an ill-scribbled note, upon a
sheet of common note-paper such as one would buy in a penny packet,
envelopes included.
The note, which was anonymous, and bore the postmark of Willesden,
commenced with the words "Dear Miss," and ran as follows:
"Your lover, Sainsbury, has been warned to keep his nose out of other
people's affairs, and as he continues to inquire about what does not
concern him his activity is to be cut short. Tell him that, as he has
disregarded the advice given him by letter two months ago, his fate is
now sealed. The arm of Germany's vengeance is long, and reaches far.
So beware--_both of you_!"
For a few seconds Jack held the mysterious missive in his hand, and then
suddenly he burst out laughing.
"You surely won't allow this to worry you?" he exclaimed. "Why, it's
only some crank--somebody we know who is playing a silly practical
joke,"--and folding the letter, he gave it back to her with a careless
air. "Such a letter as that doesn't worry me for a single minute."
"But it contains a distinct assertion--that you are doomed!" cried the
girl, pale-faced and very anxious.
"Yes--it certainly is a very cheerful note. Whom do you know at
Willesden?"
"Not a soul that I can think of. I've been puzzling my brains for days
as to anybody I know there, but can think of no one."
"It was posted out there on purpose, no doubt!" he laughed. "Well, if I
were you, Elise, I wouldn't give it another thought."
"Ah, that's all very well. But I can't get rid of the distinct belief
that some mischief is intended," answered the girl very gravely.
"No, no, darling?" he assured her, placing his arm again round her slim
waist, and kissing her fondly upon the lips. "Don't anticipate any such
thing. Somebody's having a game with us. They think it a huge joke, no
doubt."
"But do look the facts in the face, Jack!" she urged. "These spies of
Germany, swarming over the country as they do, will hesitate at nothing
in order to gain victory for their barbarous Fatherland. Not only have
we to fight the unscrupulous army of the Kaiser, remember, but another
army of pro-Germans in our midst,--those pretended Englishmen who have
their `spiritual homes' in Berlin."
"True. But don't let that letter get on your nerves, darling. Burn it,
and then forget it."
"Did you ever receive a letter warning you?" she asked.
"Yes. I've had several. One was, I believe, in the same handwriting as
yours," was his rather careless reply.
"You never told me of them!"
"Because I discarded them," he said. "I believe I've had quite half a
dozen at various times, but I pay no attention to people who don't sign
their names."
Elise Shearman sighed. In her fine blue eyes there was a distinctly
troubled look.
She loved Jack very deeply and tenderly. What if these people actually
did make an attempt upon his life? Suppose he were killed! That the
spies of Germany had every motive to put an end to his activity in
ferreting them out, was quite plain. Indeed, her father, knowing
nothing of the anonymous letter, had referred to it that evening. He
had declared that her lover was running very grave risks. It had been
this remark which had set her thinking more deeply and more
apprehensively.
Jack saw that she was worrying, therefore he kissed her fondly, and
reassured her that no harm would befall him.
"I'll take every precaution possible, in order to satisfy you, my
darling," he declared, his strong arms again around her as he held her
closely to him.
They looked indeed a handsome pair--he tall, good-looking, strong and
manly, and she dainty and fair, with a sweet, delightful expression upon
her pretty face.
"Then--then you really love me, Jack?" she faltered, looking up into his
face as he whispered into her delicate ear, regretting if any
ill-considered word he had uttered had pained her.
"Love you, my darling?" he cried passionately--"why, of course I do.
How can you doubt me? You surely know that, for me, there is only one
good, true woman in all the world--your own dear, sweet self!" She
smiled in full content, burying her pretty head upon his shoulder.
"Then--then you really will take care of yourself, Jack--_won't you_?"
she implored. "When you are absent I'm always thinking--and
wondering--"
"And worrying, I fear, little one," he interrupted. "Now don't worry.
I assure you that I'm quite safe--that--"
His sentence was interrupted by a tap at the door. They sprang apart,
and Littlewood, old Dan's neat, middle-aged manservant--a North-country
man, a trusted friend of the family--entered and, addressing Jack, said,
with that pleasant burr in his voice:
"There's a gentleman called, sir--gives the name of Murray, sir. He
wants to see you a moment upon some rather urgent business."
"Murray?" echoed Jack. "I don't recollect the name. Who is he?"
"He's a gentleman, sir. He's down in the hall. He won't detain you a
minute, he says," was the man's reply.
"Then excuse me a moment," he said in apology to Elise, and left the
room, descending to the hall with Littlewood.
Below stood a clean-shaven man in a black overcoat who, advancing to
meet him, said--"Are you Mr Sainsbury, sir?"
"Yes. That's my name," replied the young man.
"I want to speak to you privately, just for a few moments," the stranger
said. "I want to tell you something in confidence," he added, lowering
his voice. "Shall we go outside the door?" and he glanced meaningly at
Littlewood.