Spies of the Kaiser: Plotting the Downfall of England

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER XIII

  OUR WIRELESS SECRETS

  Something important was being attempted, but what it was neither RayRaymond nor myself could make out.

  We had exerted a good deal of vigilance and kept constant watch uponHartmann's house in Pont Street since my return from Poland, but all tono purpose.

  Vera had been staying in London with her aunt and had greatly assistedus in keeping observation upon two strangers who had arrived in Londonabout a month ago, and who were staying in an obscure hotel nearVictoria Station.

  Their names were Paul Dubois, a Belgian, and Frederick Gessner, aGerman. The first-named was, we judged, about forty, stout,flabby-faced, wearing gold pince-nez, while the German was somewhatyounger, both quiet, studious-looking men who seemed, however, to bewelcomed by many of the prominent members of the German colony inLondon.

  On five separate occasions we had followed the pair to King's CrossStation and watched them take third class tickets to Hull. They wouldremain there perhaps two or three days, and then return to London.

  After a while they had grown tired of their hotel, and had taken a smallfurnished house at the top of Sydenham Hill, close to the CrystalPalace, a pleasant little place with a small secluded garden in whichwere several high old elms. They engaged a rather obese old Frenchwomanas housekeeper, and there they led a quiet life, engrossed apparently inliterary studies.

  I confess that when it came my turn to watch them I became more thanever convinced that Raymond's suspicions were ungrounded. They seldomwent out, and when they did, it was either to dine with Hartmann, or tostroll about the suburban roads of Norwood, Sydenham, and Penge.

  Late one afternoon, however, while I was down at Sydenham, I saw thememerge from the house, carrying their small suit-cases, and followedthem to King's Cross Station, where they took tickets for Hull.

  Instantly I rushed to the telephone and informed Ray in Bruton Street ofmy intention to follow them.

  That same night I found myself in the smoke-grimed Station Hotel inHull, where the two foreigners had also put up.

  Next day they called at a solicitor's office at the end ofWhitefriargate, and thence, accompanied by a man who was apparently thelawyer's managing clerk, they went in a cab along the Docks, where, at aspot close to the Queen's Dock, they pulled up before an empty factory,a place which was not very large, but which possessed a very highchimney.

  The managing clerk entered the premises with a key, and for about halfan hour the pair were within, apparently inspecting everything.

  I was puzzled. Why they were in treaty to rent a place of thisdescription was an utter enigma.

  They returned to the hotel to luncheon, and I watched them engaged inanimated discussion afterwards, and I also noticed that they despatcheda telegram.

  Next day they called upon the solicitor, and by their satisfied mannerwhen they came forth from the office, I guessed that they had becometenants of the place.

  In this I was not mistaken, for that same afternoon they went togetherto the factory and let themselves in with the key, remaining within forover an hour, evidently planning something.

  That night I wrote a long report to Raymond, and next morning spoke tohim over the telephone.

  "Vera wants to know if you want her in Hull. If so, she'll come," myfriend said. "I'm just as puzzled as you are. Those two men meanmischief--but in what manner is a mystery."

  "If Miss Vallance can come, I'll be only too thankful," I replied. "Ifear the men know you, but they don't know her. And she can greatlyassist me."

  "Very well, Jacox," was his reply. "She'll leave this evening. She'llwire to the hotel. She'd better not be seen with you. So, to the hotelpeople, you'll be strangers. Meet outside, and arrange matters. 'Phoneme when you want me up there."

  "Right, old chap," I replied. "I'll ring you up at eleven to-morrow andreport. So be in. Good-bye."

  And I rang off.

  Vera arrived just before eleven that evening. I was in the hall of thehotel when the porter entered, carrying her dressing-case. She passed meand went to the office, but I did not acknowledge her. She wore a neatdark blue travelling gown, well cut by her tailor, and a little toquewhich suited her face admirably. She possessed perfect taste in dress.

  Half an hour later I sent a note up to her room by a waiter, asking herto meet me outside on the railway platform at ten o'clock next morning.

  She kept the appointment, and in order to escape observation we enteredthe refreshment-room.

  "The numbers of the rooms occupied by the two men are sixty-eight andseventy-two," I explained. "Perhaps it will be as well if you watch themthe whole of to-day. They are at present in the writing-room, so you canat once pick them up."

  "Certainly, Mr. Jacox," she said. "Jack is intensely anxious. He's verypuzzled as to what they intend doing."

  "Yes," I replied, "it's quite a mystery. But we shall discover somethingere long, never fear."

  Vera laughed as she sipped the glass of milk I had ordered.

  Then I briefly explained all that I had discovered, telling her how thetwo men had evidently taken the factory on a lease, and how they werethere every day, apparently making plans for future business.

  "But what business do they intend starting?" she asked.

  "Ah!" I said; "that's what we have to find out. And we shall do sobefore very long, if we are careful and vigilant."

  "Trust me," she said; "I am entirely at your orders."

  "Then I shall wait and hear your report," I said. "When you return tothe hotel send a line to my room."

  And with that arrangement we parted.

  That day I spent idling in the vicinity of the hotel. It was mid-August,and the atmosphere was stifling. That district of Hull is not a verypleasant one, for it is one of mean provincial streets and of the noiseof railway lorries rumbling over the granite setts.

  The afternoon I spent in playing billiards with the marker, when aboutsix o'clock a page-boy brought me a note from my enthusiastic littlefriend.

  "I shall be in the station refreshment-room at half-past six. Meetme.--VERA."

  Those were the words I found within the envelope.

  Half an hour later, when I sat at the little marble-topped table withher, she related how she had been following the pair all day.

  "They were in the factory from half-past one until four," she said."They've ordered a builder to put up ladders to examine the chimney.They appear to think it isn't quite safe."

  She told me the name of the builder, adding that the contract was tohave the ladders in position during the next three days.

  "They are leaving for London to-night by the last train," she added. "Iheard the Belgian telling the hall-porter as I came out."

  "Then we'll wire to Ray to meet them, and keep an eye upon them," Isaid. "I suppose you will go up to town?"

  "I think so. And when they return I will follow them down if Ray deemsit best," replied the pretty girl, who was just as enthusiastic in herpatriotism as ourselves.

  So still mystified I was compelled to remain inactive in Hull, whileVera and the two foreigners whom we suspected of espionage went up toLondon.

  For the next four days I heard nothing until suddenly, at eight o'clockone morning, Ray entered my bedroom before I was up.

  "I've found out one thing about those Johnnies!" he exclaimed. "They'vebeen buying, in Clerkenwell, a whole lot of electrical appliances--coilsof wire, insulators, and batteries. Some of it has been sent direct tothe place they've taken here, and the rest has been sent to their housedown in Sydenham."

  "What can they want that for?" I queried.

  "Don't know, my dear chap. Let's wait and see."

  "Perhaps, after all, they are about to set up in business," I said."Neither of them has struck me as being spies. Save that they've visitedHartmann once or twice, their movements have not been very suspicious.Many foreigners are setting up factories in England, owing to the recentchange in our patent laws."

  "I know," said my fri
end. "Yet their confidential negotiations withHartmann have aroused my suspicions, and I feel confident we shalldiscover something interesting before long. They came back by the sametrain as I travelled."

  After breakfast, we both strolled round to the factory. The ground itcovered was not much, and it was surrounded by a wall about twelve feethigh, so that no one could see within the courtyard. It had, at onetime, been a lead-mill, but for the past eight years had, we learned,been untenanted.

  Even as we loitered near, we saw the builder's men bringing long laddersfor the inspection of the chimney.

  We watched for a whole week, but as each day passed, I became moreconfident that we were upon a false scent.

  The chimney had been inspected, the ladders taken down again, and oncemore the German and the Belgian had returned south to that pleasantLondon suburb.

  In order to ascertain what was really in progress I called one morningupon the solicitor in Whitefriargate, on pretext of being a likelytenant of the factory. I was, however, informed by the managing clerkthat it was already let to a firm of electrical engineers.

  Thus the purchase of electrical appliances was entirely accounted for.

  Once again I returned to London. They seemed, by the electricalaccessories that had been delivered, to be fitting up a second factoryin their house in Sydenham.

  That, being a private house, seemed somewhat mysterious.

  They had become friendly also with a tall, rather well-dressedEnglishman named Fowler, who had the appearance of a superior clerk, andwho resided in a rather nice house in Hopton Road, Streatham Hill.

  Fowler had become a frequent visitor at their house, while, on severaloccasions, he dined with Dubois at De Keyser's Hotel, facing BlackfriarsBridge.

  In consequence of some conversation I one evening overheard--aconversation in English, which the Belgian spoke fluently--I judgedFowler to be an electrician, and it seemed, later on, very much asthough he had been, or was about to be, taken into partnership withthem.

  As far as we could discover, however, he had been told nothing about thefactory in Hull. More than once I suspected that the two foreigners wereswindlers, who intended to "do" the Englishman out of his money. Thiswas impressed I upon me the more, because one evening a German woman wasintroduced to their newly-found friend as Frau Gessner, who had justarrived from Wiesbaden.

  Whether she was really Gessner's wife I doubted. It was curious that, onkeeping observation that evening, I found that the lady did not resideat Sydenham, but at a small hotel in Bloomsbury, not a stone's-throwfrom my own rooms.

  There was certainly some deep game in progress. What could it be?

  Vera had watched Fowler on several occasions, but beyond the fact thathe was an electrical engineer, occupying a responsible position with awell-known telegraph construction company, we could discover nothing.

  After nearly three weeks in London, Dubois and Gessner returned to Hull,where, while living at the Station Hotel, they spent each day at their"works." They engaged no assistant, and were bent apparently upon doingeverything by themselves. They were joined one day by a shrivelled-upold man of rather seedy appearance, and typically German. His name wasBusch, and he lived in lodgings out on the Beverley Road. He was takento the works, and remained there all day.

  A quantity of electrical appliances were delivered from London, andDubois and Gessner received them and unpacked them themselves.

  Ray Raymond was down at Sheerness upon another matter--a serious attemptto obtain some confidential naval information--therefore I remained inHull anxiously watching. Vera had again offered her services, but atthat moment she was down at Sheerness with Ray.

  Day by day old Busch went regularly to the factory, and by theappearance of the trio when they came forth, it was apparent that theyworked very hard. I was intensely inquisitive, and dearly wished toobtain a glance within the place. But that was quite out of thequestion.

  Busch, it seemed, had lived in Hull for a considerable period. Inquiriesof his neighbours revealed that he was a well-known figure. He did butlittle work, preferring to take long walks into the country.

  One man told me that he had met him twice away near Spurn Head, at theestuary of the Humber, and on another occasion he had seen himwandering aimlessly along the low-lying coast in the vicinity ofHornsea. In explanation of this, it seemed that he had once lived for awhole summer in Withernsea, not far from Spurn Head, and had grown fondof the neighbourhood. Everybody looked upon him as a harmless old man, atrifle eccentric, and a great walker.

  That constant rambling over that low-lying district of Holderness hadaroused my suspicions, and I determined to turn my attention to him.

  One day the old man did not go to the factory, but instead went forthupon one of his rambles. He took train from Hull to Hornsea, where therailway ends at the sea, and walked along the shore for several miles;indeed until he was three parts of the distance to Bridlington, when hesuddenly halted near the little village of Barmston, and producing aneat pocket-camera took a long series of snap-shots of the flat coast,where I saw there were several places which would afford an easy landingfor the invader.

  The truth was in an instant plain. Old Busch was a "fixed-agent," whowas carrying on the same work along the Yorkshire coast as his ingeniouscompatriots were doing in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex. The remainder ofthat day I kept a sharp eye upon him, and witnessed him making manynotes and taking many photographs of the various farms and houses nearthe sea. He noted the number of haystacks in the farmyards--for hisreport on fodder stores, no doubt--and made certain notes regarding thehouses, of great use, no doubt, when the Germans came to billet theirtroops.

  It was not until nearly midnight that I was back at the hotel in Hull.Then, by judicious inquiry of the hall porter--who had become myparticular friend--I ascertained that Gessner had left for London by thelast train.

  Should I follow, or should I remain in Hull?

  I decided upon the latter course, and retired to bed, thoroughly faggedout.

  Early next morning I went round to the telephone-exchange, rather thanuse the instrument in the hotel, and rang up Raymond.

  To my delight he answered my call. He was at home.

  I gave him a rapid digest of what I had discovered, and told him thatthe German had returned to Sydenham.

  "All right, old chap," came his voice over the wire. "Vera will watch atthis end, while you watch yours. If what I guess is right, they're doingsomething far more serious than surveying that flat coast north of theHumber. Be careful not to betray yourself."

  "Trust me for that," I laughed. "Are you going back to Sheerness?"

  "Yes. I'll be there all day to-day--and to-morrow I hope to get one ofour friends the enemy arrested. That's what I'm trying for.Good-bye--and good luck," and he rang off.

  Busch went to the factory where Dubois was already awaiting him. As Istood outside that building of mystery I wondered what devilment wasbeing plotted within. It had not been cleaned or painted, the windowsbeing still thick with soot, and several of them, which had been broken,were boarded up. The place had certainly not been cleaned down foryears, and no wonder they had been suspicious of the stability of thatchimney which towered so high towards the murky sky.

  There was no sign whatever of activity within, or of any business aboutto be carried on. Thus, day followed day, Busch and Dubois spending mostof their time within those high walls which held their secret.

  One curious thing was the number of telegrams delivered there. Sometimesthey sent and received as many as fourteen or fifteen in a day. How Ilonged to know with whom they were in such constant communication.

  Suddenly, after the third day, the shoal of wires entirely ceased. Buschand Dubois, instead of going to the factory, spent the day in thecountry, taking train to Patrington and walking through Skeffling wentout to Kilnsea, opposite Great Grimsby at the entrance to the Humber.

  From the point where I watched I could see that the old man withconsiderable gesticulation was stan
ding upon the shore facing seawardand explaining something to his companion.

  The Belgian apparently put many questions to him, and had becomeintensely interested. Then presently his companion produced a paper fromhis pocket--evidently a plan, for he pointed out something upon it.

  They both lit their pipes, and sitting down upon a rock discussedsomething quietly. Apparently Busch was making an elaborate explanation,now and then pointing with his finger seaward.

  Where he pointed was the channel through which passed all the shippinginto the Humber.

  Then, after a time, he rose from where he sat, and seemed to bemeasuring a distance by taking paces, his companion walking at his sideover the level expanse of sand.

  Suddenly he halted, pointing to the ground.

  Dubois examined the shore at that point with apparent curiosity. Withwhat object I could not imagine.

  They remained there for fully an hour, and the sun had already set whenthey returned to Patrington, and took the train back to Hull.

  That old Busch was a spy I had proved long ago, but what part Dubois andGessner were playing was not yet at all clear.

  On the following evening, about ten o'clock, I saw Dubois near the Dockoffice, and on watching him, followed him to the factory, which heentered with his key. Beyond the gate was the small paved courtyard inwhich rose the high chimney. Within the factory he lit the gas, for Icould see its reflection, though from the street I could not get sightof the lower windows.

  The night was bright and moonlit, and as I waited I heard within thegrinding of a windlass, and saw to my surprise, a thin light iron rodabout six feet long and placed vertically rising slowly up the side ofthe chimney stack, evidently being drawn up to a pulley at its summit.

  Dubois was hoisting it to the top, where at last it remained stationary,its ends just protruding beneath the coping and hardly visible.

  Scarcely had this been done when Busch came along, and I had to exercisea quick movement to avoid detection. He was admitted by Dubois, and thedoor was closed and locked as usual.

  I stood beneath the wall, trying to overhear their words. But I couldunderstand nothing.

  Suddenly a dull, crackling noise broke the silence of the night, asthough the sound was dulled by a padded room.

  Again I listened. Then at last the truth dawned upon me.

  The spies had put in a secret installation of wireless telegraphy!

  Those intermittent sounds were that of the Morse code. They wereexchanging signals with some other persons.

  Gessner was absent. No doubt the corresponding station was at that househigh upon Sydenham Hill to the south of London, two hundred milesdistant!

  I waited for a quarter of an hour, listening to those secret signals.Then I hurried to the telephone, and fortunately found Raymond at home.I told him what I had discovered, and urged him to take a taxi at oncedown to Sydenham and ascertain whether they were receiving signalsthere.

  This he promised to do, telling me he would 'phone me the result to thehotel at eight o'clock next morning.

  Therefore I returned to the factory, and through the long night-hourslistened to their secret experiments.

  At eight next morning the telephone rang, and Ray briefly explained thatGessner, who had placed his apparatus upon the high flagstaff in hisgarden, had been receiving messages all night!

  "Have you seen anything of Fowler?"

  "No. But Hartmann has spent the night with Gessner, apparently watchinghis experiments. Couldn't you manage to watch your opportunity and getinside the factory somehow? I'll come north at noon, and we'll see whatwe can do."

  At five o'clock he stepped from the London express, and together wewalked down to the Imperial Hotel, to which I had suddenly changed myquarters, feeling that I had been too long in the close vicinity of thespy Dubois.

  "It seems that they carry out their experiments at night," I explained."For in the daytime the wireless apparatus is no longer in position. Isee now why they engaged a builder to examine the chimney--in order toplace a pulley with a wire rope in position at the top!"

  "But Gessner and Dubois are expert electricians, no doubt. Members ofthe Telegraphen-Abtheilung of the German army, most probably," remarkedmy friend.

  "And who is Fowler?"

  "A victim, I should say. He appears to be a most respectable man."

  "In any financial difficulty?"

  "Not that I can discover."

  "But why have they established this secret communication between Hulland London?"

  "That's just what we have to discover, my dear fellow," laughed Ray."But if we are to get a peep inside the place it's evident we can onlydo so in the daytime. At night they are down there."

  "At early morning," I suggested, "after they have left."

  "Very well," he said; "we'll watch them to-night, and get in after theyleave. I've brought a few necessaries in my bag--the set ofhousebreaking implements," he added, with a grin.

  "Well," I said, "neither of us know much about wireless telegraphy.Couldn't we get hold of an operator from one of the Wilson liners indock, and take him along with us? A sailor is always an adventurer."

  Ray was struck with the idea, and by eight o'clock that evening we hadenlisted the services of a smart young fellow, one of the operators inthe Wilson American service, to whom, in strictest confidence, werelated our suspicions.

  That night proved an exciting one. Fortunately for us it was cloudy,with rain, at intervals. Murphy, the wireless operator, listening underthe wall declared that we were not mistaken. The men were sendingmessages in code.

  "Most probably," he said, "they have another station across at Borkum,Wilhelmshaven, or somewhere. I wonder what they're at?" he added, muchpuzzled.

  Through those long hours we watched anxiously; but just before the dawnDubois and Busch lowered their apparatus from the top of the chimney,and a few minutes later emerged, walking together towards the hotel.

  As soon as they were out of sight we held a consultation, and it wasdecided that, while Murphy and I kept watch for the police, Ray shoulduse his jemmy upon the door and break it open. He would admit us andremain himself outside to give us warning.

  Those moments were breathless ones.

  We parted, the wireless operator walking one way, while I went in theopposite direction. Suddenly we heard the cracking of wood, followed bya low cough.

  By that, we knew all was well.

  We hurried back, and a few seconds later were in the courtyard of thedisused factory. Ray had handed me his jemmy, and with it I broke openthe second door of the empty place, flashing a light with the electrictorch I carried.

  We passed into the small office, but no second glance was needed to showthat the place was completely fitted with a wireless installation of themost approved pattern.

  "We'll try it," suggested young Murphy, and taking out the apparatus wehauled it up to the top of the chimney. Then re-entering the office, heplaced the receiver over his ears, and listened intently, in his hand apencil he had found ready upon the paper pad.

  I stood watching his face. Apparently he heard nothing.

  Then he touched the key of the instrument and instantly a great bluespark, causing a crackling noise, flashed across the room.

  He was calling.

  Suddenly his face brightened, and he was listening. Then he grew greatlypuzzled.

  Taking the receiver off his head he began to search the table upon whichwere several books; but at that instant I heard a light footstep behindme, and as I turned I felt a heavy crushing blow upon the top of myskull.

  Then the blackness of unconsciousness fell upon me.

  I knew no more till, on opening my eyes, I found myself lying in bedwith a nurse bending over me.

  I gazed around in amazement. There were other beds in the vicinity. Iwas in a hospital with my head tightly bandaged.

  For a whole day and night I lay there, the nurse forbidding me to speak.

  Then suddenly there entered Ray, whose arm was i
n a sling, accompaniedby young Murphy.

  "The spies came back--unexpectedly, and went for me before I could raisethe alarm," Raymond explained. "Dubois hit you over the head with ajemmy, and by Jove! it's a mercy you weren't killed. He's cleared out ofthe country, however, fearing a charge of attempted murder. I'veinformed the police, and they are looking for both him and Busch, aswell as Gessner, who is missing from Sydenham."

  "Yes, but why had they established these two wireless stations?" Iasked.

  "Yes," replied Murphy, "it's a most ingenious piece of work. By someunknown means both the station here, and at Sydenham, had been tunedwith the one which I daresay you've seen stretched across the top of thenew Admiralty, in Whitehall, hence they could read all the orders givento the Home and Channel Fleets and the reports received from them, whileI have to-day discovered that there is a similar secret station existingsomewhere near Borkum also in tune with these, and with our Admiralty.Therefore the Germans are aware of every signal sent to our Fleet! Thestation at Sydenham was only temporary, but the one here was evidentlydevised in order that the German admiral in the North Sea, on seizingHull and establishing a base here, might have constant knowledge of ourAdmiralty orders and the whereabouts of our ships. When I was listeningI was surprised at the code, but the truth was made plain by thediscovery of a complete copy of the British naval code lying upon thetable. By means of this, the spies could decipher all messages to andfrom our ships. The Civil Lord of the Admiralty and three officials havearrived in Hull, and I have been with them down at the factory thisafternoon. The chief wireless engineer declares that the secret of theexact tuning must have been learnt from somebody in the office of theconstructors."

  And both Ray and I then remembered the man Fowler, who had, as weafterwards discovered, been on the verge of bankruptcy, and had suddenlygone abroad, a fact which was sufficiently instructive for our purpose.

  Next day I was well enough to leave the hospital, and I guided thesuperintendent of the Hull police and two detectives to Busch's house,where, on searching his room, we discovered a volume of plans andreports of defences of the Humber and its estuary, estimates of food andfodder supplies in the country north of Hull, together with a list ofthe foreign pilots and their addresses, as well as an annotated chart ofthe river, showing the position where mines would be sunk at the river'smouth on the alarm of invasion.

  But what, perhaps, would have been even more alarming to the generalpublic, had they but known, was the discovery of several great bundlesof huge posters ready prepared for posting up on the day ofinvasion--the Proclamation threatening with death all who dared tooppose the German landing and advance--a copy of which I have given inthese pages.

  It shows, indeed, what careful preparation our enemies are now making,just as the installation of the secret wireless showed the tactfulcunning of the invader.

  For our exertions, Raymond, Murphy, and myself received the best thanksof the Lords of the Admiralty, at which, I confess, we were all threemuch gratified.

  CHAPTER XIV

  PLAYING A DESPERATE GAME

  On the 20th of December, 1908, it rained incessantly in London, and wellI recollect it. After lunch I sat in the club-window in St. James'sStreet, idly watching the drenched passers-by, many of them people whowere up from the country to do their Christmas shopping.

  The outlook was a gloomy one; particularly so for myself, for I hadarranged to spend Christmas with an aunt who had a pretty villa amongthe olives outside Nice, but that morning I had received a telegram fromher saying that she was very unwell and asking me to postpone my visit.

  The club was practically deserted save for one or two old cronies. Everyone had gone to country houses, Ray was spending Christmas with Vera'sfather at Portsmouth, and in view of the message I had received I feltdull and alone. It is astonishing how very lonely a man may be atChristmas in our great London, even though at other times he maypossess hosts of friends.

  I had received fully a dozen invitations to country houses, all of whichI had declined, and was now, alas! stranded, without hope of spending "AMerry Christmas," except in the lonely silence of my own bachelorchambers. So I smoked on, looking forth into the darkening gloom.

  The waiter switched on the light in the great smoking-room at last, andthen drew the heavy curtains at all the long windows, shutting out thedismal scene.

  A man I knew, a hard-working member of Parliament, entered, threwhimself down wearily and lit a cigar. Then, idler that I was, I began togossip.

  He was going up to Perthshire by the 11.45 from Euston that night, heremarked.

  "Where are you spending Christmas?" he asked.

  "Don't know," I replied. "Probably at home."

  "You seem to have the hump, my dear fellow," he remarked, with a laugh,and then I confided to him the reason.

  At last, about six o'clock, I put on my overcoat and left the club. Therain had now stopped, therefore I decided to walk along to my rooms inGuilford Street.

  Hardly had I turned the corner into Piccadilly, when I heard a voice atmy elbow uttering my name with a foreign accent.

  Turning quickly, I saw, to my great surprise, a man named Engler, whom Ihad known in Bremen. He was a clerk in the Deutsche Bank, opposite theLiebfrauen-Kirche, and popular in a certain circle in that Hanseaticcity.

  "My dear Meester Jacox!" he exclaimed in broken English in hisenthusiastic way. "My dear frendt. Well, well! who would have thought ofmeeting you. I am so ve-ry glad!" he cried. "I have only been in Londonsince three days."

  I shook my friend's hand warmly, for a year ago, when I had spent sometime beside the Weser watching two men I had followed from London, wehad been extremely friendly.

  I told him that I was on my way to my rooms, and invited him in to havea chat.

  He gladly accompanied me, and when we were comfortably seated in my cosysitting-room he began to relate to me all the latest news from Bremenand of several of my friends.

  Otto Engler was a well-dressed, rather elegant man of forty, whose fairbeard was well trimmed, whose eyes were full of fire, and who ratherprided himself upon being something of a lady-killer. He was in Londonin connection with an important financial scheme in which his brotherand a German merchant in London, named Griesbach, were interested. Heand his brother Wilhelm were over on a visit to the merchant, who, hetold me, had offices in Coleman Street, and who lived in Lonsdale Road,Barnes.

  There was a fortune in the business, he declared, which was thediscovery of a new alloy, lighter than aluminium, yet with twenty timesthe rigidity.

  That evening we dined together at the "Trocadero," looked in at theEmpire, and returned to the club for a smoke.

  Indeed, I was delighted to have found an old friend just when I was indeepest despair of the dullness of everything, and of Christmas inparticular.

  Otto Engler had one failing--his impudent inquisitiveness. After he hadleft me it occurred to me that all the time we had been together he hadbeen constantly endeavouring to discover my recent movements, where Ihad visited of late, where I intended spending Christmas, and mysubsequent movements.

  Why did he desire to know all these particulars? He was a busybody, Iknew, and the worst gossip in the whole of that gossip-loving city onthe Weser. Therefore I attributed his inquisitiveness to his naturalpropensity for prying into other people's affairs.

  "Ah! my dear friend," he had said as he gripped my hand on leaving me,"they often speak of you in Bremen. How we all wish you were back againwith us of an evening at the Wiener Cafe!"

  "I fear I shall never go back," I said briefly. "Business nowadays keepsme in London, as you know."

  "I know--I know," he replied. "Remember, you have always had a truefriend in Otto Engler--and you always will, I trust."

  Then he had entered the taxi which the hall-porter had called for him.

  Next afternoon he called upon me at New Stone Buildings, as we hadarranged. Ray Raymond was seated with me. I introduced him, and we spenta pleasant hour, chatting and smok
ing. Ray had also been in Bremen, andthe two men had, they found, many mutual friends. Then, when he hadleft, Ray declared himself charmed by him.

  "So different to the usual German," he declared. "There's nothing of thepopinjay about him, nothing of the modern military fop of Berlin orDresden, men who are, in my estimation, the very acme of bad breedingand degenerate idiocy."

  "No," I said. "Engler is quite a good fellow. I'm glad he's found me. Iexpected to be deadly dull this Christmas."

  "So do I," replied my friend. "I've got a wire this morning from theAdmiral saying he is down with influenza, and the Christmas house-partyis postponed. So I shall stay in town."

  "In that case we might spend Christmas day together," I suggested.

  This was arranged.

  My German friend Otto saw me daily. I was introduced to his brother,Wilhelm, a tall, thin, rather narrow-eyed man who, from his atrociousGerman, I judged was from Dantzig. It was one evening in the Cafe Royalthat I first saw Wilhelm, who was seated playing dominoes with a ratherstout, middle-aged man in gold-rimmed spectacles, Heinrich Griesbach.

  Both men expressed delight at meeting me, and I invited the trio to myrooms for a smoke and a gossip.

  We sat until nearly two o'clock in the morning. Griesbach had been manyyears in London, and was apparently financing the scheme of the brothersEngler, a scheme which, on the face of it, seemed a very soundundertaking.

  All three were thorough-going cosmopolitans, cheery, easy-going men ofthe world, who told many quaint stories which caused my room to ringwith laughter.

  Next day was Christmas Eve, and Griesbach suddenly suggested that if Ihad nothing better to do he would be delighted if I would join theirparty at dinner on Christmas night at his house over at Barnes.

  "I regret very much," I said, "but I've already arranged to dine with myfriend Raymond, who shares chambers with me in Lincoln's Inn."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Otto Engler, "I'm sure Herr Griesbach would be verypleased if he came also."

  "Of course!" cried the German merrily. "The more the merrier. We shalldine at eight, and we'll expect you both. I'll send a note to Mr.Raymond, if you'll give me his address."

  I gave it to him, and nothing loath to spend the festival in such jovialcompany, I accepted.

  I entertained a shrewd suspicion that by their hospitality they wishedto enlist my aid, because I had one or two friends in the City whomight, perhaps, assist them materially in their scheme. And yet, afterall, Otto Engler had often been my guest in Bremen.

  Next day I heard on the telephone from Ray that he would go down toBarnes with me, and would call for me at six at Guilford Street.Curiously enough, I had become so impressed by the possibilities of thenew alloy about to be exploited with British capital, that I had reallybecome anxious to "go in" with them. Ray Raymond, too, was muchinterested when I showed him the specimen of the new metal which Englerhad given me.

  "Do you know," said he when he called for me at six o'clock on Christmasevening, "I was about town a lot yesterday and I'm quite certain that Iwas followed by a foreigner--a rather big man wearing gold spectacles."

  "Nonsense!" I laughed. "Why should you be followed by any foreigner?"

  "It isn't nonsense, my dear Jacox," he declared. "The fellow kept closeobservation on me all yesterday afternoon. When I got back to BrutonStreet, I looked out half an hour afterwards and there he was, stillidling outside."

  "Some chap who wants to serve you with a writ, perhaps!" I laughedgrimly. "A neglected tailor's bill!"

  "No," he said. "He's watching with some evil intent, I'm certain. Iexpect he's somewhere near, even now," he added.

  "Why!" I laughed. "You seem quite nervy over it! Next time you see him,go up to the Johnnie and ask him what the dickens he wants."

  Then, half an hour later, I put on my hat and coat, and together we tooka taxi past Kensington Church and Olympia, to Hammersmith Bridge, overwhich we turned off to the right in Castelnau, into a long ill-litthoroughfare, running parallel with the river. Bare trees lined theroad, and each house was a good-sized one, standing in its own grounds.

  Before one of these, hidden from the road by a high wall, and standingback a good distance from the road, the cab pulled up, and, alighting,we opened the gate, and passing up a well-kept drive pulled the bell.

  Our summons was answered by a thin, rather consumptive-looking Germanman-servant, who took our coats and ceremoniously ushered us into a bigwell-furnished drawing-room, where Griesbach and his two friends werealready assembled awaiting us. All were smoking cigarettes, which showedthat no ladies were to be present.

  The instant Ray entered the room I saw that he gave a start, and a fewmoments later he seized an opportunity to whisper to me that the man whohad so persistently followed him on the previous day was none other thanour host Griesbach.

  "Don't worry over it, my dear old fellow," I urged. "What motive wouldhe have? He didn't even know you!"

  And then the gossip became merry in that room so seasonably decoratedwith holly, while Griesbach assured us of his delight in having us ashis guests.

  Dinner was served in the adjoining room, and a most excellent andthoroughly English repast it was. Our host had been long enough inEngland, he told us, to appreciate English fare, hence we had part of abaron of beef with Christmas pudding afterwards, and excellent old portand nuts to follow.

  Two young Germans waited at table, and the party was as merry a one asany of us could wish. Only Ray seemed serious and preoccupied. He wassuspicious I knew--but of what?

  I now openly confess that I pretended a gaiety which I certainly did notfeel, for after Raymond had told me that he had recognised Griesbach, avery strange thought had occurred to me. It was this. As we had enteredthe garden to approach the house, I felt certain that I had caught sightof the figure of a man crouching against one of the bushes in theshadow. At the time I had thought nothing of it, so eager was I to meetmy friends. Yet now, in face of Ray's whispered words, I grew verysuspicious. Why had that man been lurking there?

  When the cloth had been cleared and dessert laid, the elder of the twoservants placed upon the table before our host a big box of longcrackers covered with dark green gelatine and embellished with goldpaper.

  "These are German bon-bons," remarked Griesbach, his grey eyes beamingthrough his spectacles. "I get them each Christmas from my home inStuttgart."

  The conversation had again turned upon the splendid investment about tobe offered to the British public, whereupon I half suggested that I wasready to go into the affair myself. Griesbach jumped at the idea, justas I expected, and handed round the box of crackers. Each of us tookone, in celebration of Christmas, and on their being pulled wediscovered small but really acceptable articles of masculine jewellerywithin. My "surprise" was a pair of plain gold sleeve-links, worth fullythree or four pounds, while Ray, with whom I pulled, received a niceturquoise scarf-pin, an incident which quite reassured him.

  Our host refused to take one.

  "No," he declared, "they are for you, my dear fellows--all for you."

  So again the box was passed round, and four more crackers were taken.That time Ray's bon-bon contained a tiny gold match-box, while withinmine I found a small charm in the form of a gold enamelled doll to hangupon one's watch-chain.

  As Ray and I pulled my cracker, I had suddenly raised my eyes and caughtsight of the expression upon the face of my friend Engler. It struck meas very curious. His sallow cheeks were pale, and his dark eyes seemedstarting out of his head with excitement.

  "Now, gentlemen," said our genial host, after he had passed the box forthe third time, first to his two compatriots, who handed the remainingtwo bon-bons across the table to us, "you have each a final bon-bon. Inone of them there will be found a twenty-mark piece--our German custom.I suggest, in order to mark this festive occasion, that whoever of youfour obtains the coin shall receive, free of any obligation, five sharesin our new syndicate."

  "A most generous proposal!" declared my friend Engler,
a sentiment withwhich we all agreed.

  The two Germans pulled their bon-bons, but were unsuccessful. Theprize--certainly a prize worth winning--now lay between Ray and myself.

  At that instant, however, Griesbach rose from the table suddenly,saying:

  "You two gentlemen must settle between yourselves. It lies between you."

  And before we were aware of his intention he had passed into theadjoining room, followed by his two friends.

  "Well," I laughed to Ray when we were alone, "here goes. Let's decideit!" And we both gripped the long green-and-gold cracker. If the coinwere within, then I should receive a very handsome present, worth alittle later on, perhaps, several thousand pounds.

  At that instant, however, we were both startled by a loud smashing ofglass in the next room, curses in German and loud shouts in English,followed by the dull report of a revolver.

  We both sprang into the room, and there, to our surprise, found that sixmen had entered through the broken French window and were strugglingfiercely with our host and his friends.

  "What in the name of Fate does this mean?" I cried, startled and amazedat that sudden termination to our cosy Christmas dinner.

  "All right, Mr. Raymond," answered a big brown-bearded man. "You knowme--Pelham of Scotland Yard! Keep an eye on those bon-bons in the nextroom. Don't touch them at peril of your life!"

  "Why?" I asked.

  Then, when our host and our two friends had been secured--not, however,before the room had been wrecked in a most desperate struggle--InspectorPelham came forward to where Ray was standing with me, and said:

  "My God, Mr. Raymond! You two have had a very narrow escape, and nomistake! Where are those bon-bons?"

  We took him into the dining-room, showed him the remaining two, and toldhim we had been about to pull them.

  "I know. We were watching you through the window. Those men were flyingfrom the house when they ran into our arms!"

  "Why?"

  "Because they are a dangerous trio whom we want on several charges. Inaddition, all three, and also the two servants, are ingenious spies inthe service of the German General Staff. They've been busy this last twoyears. They intended to wreak upon both of you a terrible revenge foryour recent exposures of the German system of espionage in England andyour constant prosecution of their spies."

  "Revenge!" I gasped. "What revenge?"

  "Well," replied the detective-inspector, "both these bon-bons containpowerful bombs, and had you pulled either of them you'd both have beenblown to atoms. That was their dastardly intention. But fortunately wegot wind of it, and were in time to watch and prevent it."

  "And only just in the nick of time, too!" gasped Ray, pale-faced atthought of our narrow escape. "I somehow felt all along some vaguepresage that evil was intended."

  The three spies were conveyed to Barnes police-station in cabs, and thatwas the last we ever saw of them. The Government again hushed up thematter in order to avoid international complications, I suppose, but aweek later the interesting trio were deported by the police to Hamburgas undesirable aliens.

  And to-day, with Ray Raymond, I am wondering what is to be the outcomeof all this organised espionage in England.

  What will happen? When will Germany strike?

  WHO KNOWS?

  THE END

  _Printed at The Chapel River Press, Kingston, Surrey._

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's notes:

  Punctuation has been standardized.

  Hyphenation has been retained as it appears in the original publication.

  An additional title and list of chapters has been added before the start of the book to be compatible with the HTML version.

  In the ad at the beginning of the book: "cloth bound" was underlined; this has been removed.

  COUNTESS BARCY[`N]SKA: there is a grave accent over the N. This is a possible typo for the Polish letter with an acute accent.

  Page 13: "Minsister" changed to "Minister" (pooh-poohed by both the Prime Minister)

  Page 95: "day" changed "days" (in the days that were to follow)

  Page 100: "depot" changed to "depot" (another depot at Burnham)

  Page 104: "no" changed to "not" (not distant date)

  Page 170: "o" changed to "to" (in order to threaten you)

  Page 173: "fell" changed to "feel" (and you will, I feel)

  Page 241: "denes" changed to "dunes" (neighbourhood of the dunes)