"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.
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 theHaileybury?" 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—theYellowhammer. 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 thatmyfriends obtain knowledge."
I looked at him hard.
"You arequitesure 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.
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 menotto 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 youessential?"'
"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 submarinesversussurface 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.
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—notthe 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 Iknowthem. 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 ofus," 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.