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 Itrust. 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 onemaybe watching us?"
"Personally I should think it sufficient to wait till some onewaswatching," 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 arousedat 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 notbegin. 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 suspicionbegins, 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 Iknowthat 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 notbegin!"
"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 visitormightappear (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.
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.
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 onbusiness."
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 ismostimportant."
"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 yououghtto 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.
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.