21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series)

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  Mr. Watson rose.

  “So far as I’m concerned,” he said, “it is a satisfactory sum. Forgive me if I leave you for a few minutes, I must have a little talk with Mrs. Watson.”

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  “We will have a cigar together after lunch,” he said. “I must have my morning game of shuffleboard with the captain.”

  Mr. Watson went below, and Mr. Sabin played shuffleboard with his usual deadly skill.

  A slight mist had settled around them by the time the game was over, and the fog-horn was blowing, the captain went on the bridge, and the engines were checked to half speed.

  Mr. Sabin leaned over the side of the vessel, and gazed thoughtfully into the dense white vapour.

  “I think,” he said softly to himself, “that after all I’m safe.”

  There was perfect silence on the ship. Even the luncheon gong had not sounded, the passengers having been summoned in a whisper by the deck steward. The fog seemed to be getting denser and the sea was like glass. Suddenly there was a little commotion aft, and the captain leaning forward shouted some brief orders. The fog-horn emitted a series of spasmodic and hideous shrills, and beyond a slight drifting the steamer was almost motionless.

  Mr. Sabin understood at once that somewhere, it might be close at hand, or it might be a mile away, the presence of another steamer had been detected.

  The same almost ghostlike stillness continued, orders were passed backward and forward in whispers. The men walked backward and forward on tip-toe. And then suddenly, without any warning, they passed out into the clear air, the mist rolled away, the sun shone down upon them again, and the decks dried as though by magic. Cheerful voices broke in upon the chill and unnatural silence. The machinery recommenced to throb, and the passengers who had finished lunch went upon deck. Every one was attracted at once by the sight of a large white steamer about a mile on the starboard side.

  Mr. Watson joined the captain, who was examining her through his glass.

  “Man-of-war, isn’t she?” he inquired.

  The captain nodded.

  “Not much doubt about that,” he answered; “look at her guns. The odd part of it is, too, she is flying no flag. We shall know who she is in a minute or two, though.”

  Mr. Sabin descended the steps on his way to a late luncheon. As he turned the corner he came face to face with Mr. Watson, whose eyes were fixed upon the coming steamer with a very curious expression.

  “Man-of-war,” Mr. Sabin remarked. “You look as though you had seen her before.”

  Mr. Watson laughed harshly.

  “I should like to see her,” he remarked, “at the bottom of the sea.”

  Mr. Sabin looked at him in surprise.

  “You know her, then?” he remarked.

  “I know her,” Mr. Watson answered, “too well. She is the Kaiser Wilhelm, and she is going to rob me of twenty thousand pounds.”

  CHAPTER XLIV

  THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED

  Table of Contents

  Mr. Sabin ate his luncheon with unimpaired appetite and with his usual care that everything of which he partook should be so far as possible of the best. The close presence of the German man-of-war did not greatly alarm him. He had some knowledge of the laws and courtesies of maritime life, and he could not conceive by what means short of actual force he could be inveigled on board of her. Mr. Watson’s last words had been a little disquieting, but he probably held an exaggerated opinion as to the powers possessed by his employers. Mr. Sabin had been in many tighter places than this, and he had sufficient belief in the country of his recent adoption to congratulate himself that it was an English boat on which he was a passenger. He proceeded to make himself agreeable to Mrs. Watson, who, in a charming costume of blue and white, and a fascinating little hat, had just come on to luncheon.

  “I have been talking,” he remarked, after a brief pause in their conversation, “to your husband this morning.”

  She looked up at him with a meaning smile upon her face.

  “So he has been telling me.”

  “I hope,” Mr. Sabin continued gently, “that your advice to him—I take it for granted that he comes to you for advice—was in my favour.”

  “It was very much in your favour,” she answered, leaning across towards him. “I think that you knew it would be.”

  “I hoped at least——”

  Mr. Sabin broke off suddenly in the midst of his sentence, and turning round looked out of the open port-hole. Mrs. Watson had dropped her knife and fork and was holding her hands to her ears. The saloon itself seemed to be shaken by the booming of a gun fired at close quarters.

  “What is it?” she exclaimed, looking across at him with frightened eyes. “What can have happened! England is not at war with anybody, is she?”

  Mr. Sabin looked up with a quiet smile from the salad which he was mixing.

  “It is simply a signal from another ship,” he answered. “She wants us to stop.”

  “What ship? Do you know anything about it? Do you know what they want?”

  “Not exactly,” Mr. Sabin said. “At the same time I have some idea. The ship who fired that signal is a German man-of-war, and you see we are stopping.”

  Of the two Mrs. Watson was certainly the most nervous. Her fingers shook so that the wine in her glass was spilt. She set her glass down and looked across at her companion.

  “They will take you away,” she murmured.

  “I think not,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I am inclined to think that I am perfectly safe. Will you try some of my salad?”

  A look of admiration flashed for a moment across her face,

  “You are a wonderful man,” she said softly. “No salad, thanks! I am too nervous to eat. Let us go on deck!”

  Mr. Sabin rose, and carefully selected a cigarette.

  “I can assure you,” he said, “that they are powerless to do anything except attempt to frighten Captain Ackinson. Of course they might succeed in that, but I don’t think it is likely. Let us go and hear what he has to say.”

  Captain Ackinson was standing alone on the deck, watching the man-of-war’s boat which was being rapidly pulled towards the Calipha. He was obviously in a bad temper. There was a black frown upon his forehead which did not altogether disappear when he turned his head and saw them approaching.

  “Are we arrested, Captain?” Mr. Sabin asked. “Why couldn’t they signal what they wanted?”

  “Because they’re blistering idiots,” Captain Ackinson answered. “They blither me to stop, and I signalled back to ask their reason, and I’m dashed if they didn’t put a shot across my bows. As if I hadn’t lost enough time already without fooling.”

  “Thanks to us, I am afraid, Captain,” Mrs. Watson put in.

  “Well, I’m not regretting that, Mrs. Watson,” the captain answered gallantly. “We got something for stopping there, but we shall get nothing decent from these confounded Germans, I am very sure. By the bye, can you speak their lingo, Mr. Sabin?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Sabin answered, “I can speak German. Can I be of any assistance to you?”

  “You might stay with me if you will,” Captain Ackinson answered, “in case they don’t speak English.”

  Mr. Sabin remained by the captain’s side, standing with his hands behind him. Mrs. Watson leaned over the rail close at hand, watching the approaching boat, and exchanging remarks with the doctor. In a few minutes the boat was alongside, and an officer in the uniform of the German Navy rose and made a stiff salute.

  “Are you the captain?” he inquired, in stiff but correct English.

  The captain returned his salute.

  “I am Captain Ackinson, Cunard ss. Calipha,” he answered. “What do you want with me?”

  “I am Captain Von Dronestein, in command of the Kaiser Wilhelm, German Navy,” was the reply. “I want a word or two with you in private, Captain Ackinson. Can I come on board?”

  Captain Ackinson’s reply was not gushing. He gave the necessary o
rders, however, and in a few moments Captain Von Dronestein, and a thin, dark man in the dress of a civilian, clambered to the deck. They looked at Mr. Sabin, standing by the captain’s side, and exchanged glances of intelligence.

  “If you will kindly permit us, Captain,” the newcomer said, “we should like to speak with you in private. The matter is one of great importance.”

  Mr. Sabin discreetly retired. The captain turned on his heel and led the way to his cabin. He pointed briefly to the lounge against the wall and remained himself standing.

  “Now, gentlemen, if you please,” he said briskly, “to business. You have stopped a mail steamer in mid ocean by force, so I presume you have something of importance to say. Please say it and let me go on. I am behind time now.”

  The German held up his hands. “We have stopped you,” he said, “it is true, but not by force. No! No!”

  “I don’t know what else you call it when you show me a bounding thirty guns and put a shot across my bows.”

  “It was a blank charge,” the German began, but Captain Ackinson interrupted him.

  “It was nothing of the sort!” he declared bluntly. “I was on deck and I saw the charge strike the water.”

  “It was then contrary to my orders,” Captain Dronestein declared, “and in any case it was not intended for intimidation.”

  “Never mind what it was intended for. I have my own opinion about that,” Captain Ackinson remarked impatiently. “Proceed if you please!”

  “In the first place permit me to introduce the Baron Von Graisheim, who is attached to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs at Berlin.”

  Captain Ackinson’s acknowledgment of the introduction was barely civil. The German continued—

  “I am afraid you will not consider my errand here a particularly pleasant one, Herr Captain. I have a warrant here for the arrest of one of your passengers, whom I have to ask you to hand over to me.”

  “A what!” Captain Ackinson exclaimed, with a spot of deep colour stealing through the tan of his cheeks.

  “A warrant,” Dronestein continued, drawing an imposing looking document from his breast pocket. “If you will examine it you will perceive that it is in perfect order. It bears, in fact,” he continued, pointing with reverential forefinger to a signature near the bottom of the document, “the seal of his most august Majesty, the Emperor of Germany.”

  Captain Ackinson glanced at the document with imperturbable face.

  “What is the name of the gentleman to whom all this refers?” he inquired.

  “The Duc de Souspennier!”

  “The name,” Captain Ackinson remarked, “is not upon my passengers’ list.”

  “He is travelling under the alias of ‘Mr. Sabin,’” Baron Von Graisheim interjected.

  “And do you expect me,” Captain Ackinson remarked, “to hand over the person in question to you on the authority of that document?”

  “Certainly!” the two men exclaimed with one voice.

  “Then I am very sorry indeed,” Captain Ackinson declared, “that you should have had the temerity to stop my ship, and detain me here on such a fool’s errand. We are on the high seas and under the English flag. The document you have just shown me impeaching the Duc de Souspennier for ‘lèse majestie’ and high treason, and all the rest of it, is not worth the paper it is written on here, nor, I should think in America. I must ask you to leave my ship at once, gentlemen, and I can promise you that my employers, the Cunard ss. Company, will bring a claim against your Government for this unwarrantable detention.”

  “You must, if you please, be reasonable,” Captain Dronestein said. “We have force behind us, and we are determined to rescue this man at all costs.”

  Captain Ackinson laughed scornfully.

  “I shall be interested to see what measures of force you will employ,” he remarked. “You may have a tidy bill to pay as it is, for that shot you put across my bows. If you try another it may cost you the Kaiser Wilhelm and the whole of the German Navy. Now, if you please, I’ve no more time to waste.”

  Captain Ackinson moved towards the door. Dronestein laid his hand upon his arm.

  “Captain Ackinson,” he said, “do not be rash. If I have seemed too peremptory in this matter, remember that Germany as my fatherland is as dear to me as England to you, and this man whose arrest I am commissioned to effect has earned for himself the deep enmity of all patriots. Listen to me, I beg. You run not one shadow of risk in delivering this man up to my custody. He has no country with whom you might become embroiled. He is a French Royalist, who has cast himself adrift altogether from his country, and is indeed her enemy. Apart from that, his detention, trial and sentence, would be before a secret court. He would simply disappear. As for you, you need not fear but that your services will be amply recognised. Make your claims now for this detention of your steamer; fix it if you will at five or even ten thousand pounds, and I will satisfy it on the spot by a draft on the Imperial Exchequer. The man can be nothing to you. Make a great country your debtor. You will never regret it.”

  Captain Ackinson shook his arm free from the other’s grasp, and strode out on to the deck.

  “Kaiser Wilhelm boat alongside,” he shouted, blowing his whistle. “Smith, have these gentlemen lowered at once, and pass the word to the engineer’s room, full speed ahead.”

  He turned to the two men, who had followed him out.

  “You had better get off my ship before I lose my temper,” he said bluntly. “But rest assured that I shall report this attempt at intimidation and bribery to my employers, and they will without doubt lay the matter before the Government.”

  “But Captain Ackinson——”

  “Not another word, sir.”

  “My dear——”

  Captain Ackinson turned his back upon the two men, and with a stiff, military salute turned towards the bridge. Already the machinery was commencing to throb. Mr. Watson, who was hovering near, came up and helped them to descend. A few apparently casual remarks passed between the three men. From a little lower down Mr. Sabin and Mrs. Watson leaned over the rail and watched the visitors lowered into their boat.

  “That was rather a foolish attempt,” he remarked lightly; “nevertheless they seem disappointed.”

  She looked after them pensively.

  “I wish I knew what they said to—my husband,” she murmured.

  “Orders for my assassination, very likely,” he remarked lightly. “Did you see your husband’s face when he passed us?”

  She nodded, and looked behind. Mr. Watson had entered the smoke-room. She drew a little nearer to Mr. Sabin and dropped her voice almost to a whisper.

  “What you have said in jest is most likely the truth. Be very careful!”

  CHAPTER XLV

  MR. SABIN IN DANGER

  Table of Contents

  Mr. Sabin found the captain by no means inclined to talk about the visit which they had just received. He was still hurt and ruffled at the propositions which had been made to him, and annoyed at the various delays which seemed conspiring to prevent him from making a decent passage.

  “I have been most confoundedly insulted by those d—— Germans,” he said to Mr. Sabin, meeting him a little later in the gangway. “I don’t know exactly what your position may be, but you will have to be on your guard. They have gone on to New York, and I suppose they will try and get their warrant endorsed there before we land.”

  “They have a warrant, then?” Mr. Sabin remarked.

  “They showed me something of the sort,” the captain answered scornfully. “And it is signed by the Kaiser. But, of course, here it isn’t worth the paper it is written on, and America would never give you up without a special extradition treaty.”

  Mr. Sabin smiled. He had calculated all the chances nicely, and a volume of international law was lying at that moment in his state-room face downwards.

  “I think,” he said, “that I am quite safe from arrest, but at the same time, Captain, I am very sorry to b
e such a troublesome passenger to you.”

  The captain shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, it is not your fault,” he said; “but I have made up my mind about one thing. I am not going to stop my ship this side of Boston Harbour for anything afloat. We have lost half a day already.”

  “If the Cunard Company will send me the extra coal bill,” Mr. Sabin said, “I will pay it cheerfully, for I am afraid that both stoppages have been on my account.”

  “Bosh!” The Captain, who was moving away, stopped short. “You had nothing to do with these New Yorkers and their broken-down yacht.”

  Mr. Sabin finished lighting a cigarette which he had taken from his case, and, passing his arm through the captain’s, drew him a little further away from the gangway.

  “I’m afraid I had,” he said. “As a matter of fact they are not New Yorkers, and they are not husband and wife. They are simply agents in the pay of the German secret police.”

  “What, spies!” the captain exclaimed.

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  “Exactly!”

  The captain was still incredulous. “Do you mean to tell me,” he exclaimed, “that charming little woman is not an American at all?—that she is a fraud?”

  “There isn’t a shadow of a doubt about it,” Mr. Sabin replied. “They have both tacitly admitted it. As a matter of fact I am in treaty now to buy them over. They were on the point of accepting my terms when these fellows boarded us. Whether they will do so now I cannot tell. I saw that fellow Graisheim talking to the man just before they left the vessel.”

  “You are safe while you are on my ship, Mr. Sabin,” the captain said firmly. “I shall watch that fellow Watson closely, and if he gives me the least chance, I will have him put in irons. Confound the man and his plausible——”

  They were interrupted by the deck steward, who came with a message from Mrs. Watson. She was making tea on deck—might she have the loan of the captain’s table, and would they come?

  The captain gave the necessary assent, but was on the point of declining the invitation. “I don’t want to go near the people,” he said.