Spies of the Kaiser: Plotting the Downfall of England

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER VII

  THE SECRET OF THE IMPROVED "DREADNOUGHT"

  The road was crooked and narrow, and the car was a nondescript "ninety,"full of knocks and noise.

  By appointment I had, for certain reasons that will afterwards beapparent, met, in the American Bar of the "Savoy," two hours before, theHonourable Robert Brackenbury, the dark, clean-shaven young man nowdriving, and he had engaged me, at a salary of two pounds ten per week,to be his chauffeur. I had driven him out through the London traffic,until, satisfied with my skill, he had taken the wheel himself, and wewere now out upon the Great North Road, where he had a pressingengagement to meet a friend.

  Beyond Hatfield we passed through Ayot Green, and were on our way toWelwyn, when suddenly he swung the powerful car into a narrow stonyby-road, where, after several sharp turns, he pulled up before apleasant, old-fashioned, red-roofed cottage standing back in a largegarden and covered with ivy and climbing roses.

  A big, stout, clean-shaven, merry-faced man, with slightly curly fairhair, standing in the rustic porch, waved his hand in welcome as we bothdescended.

  I was invited into the clean cottage parlour, and there introduced tothe stout man, who, I found, was named Charles Shand, and by whosespeech I instantly recognised an American.

  "Good!" he exclaimed. "So this is the new chauffeur, eh?" he asked,looking me up and down with his large blue eyes. "Say, young man," headded, "you've got a good berth if you can drive well--and what's moreimportant, keep a still tongue."

  I glanced from one to the other in surprise. What did he mean?

  Both saw that I was puzzled, whereupon he hastened to allay my surpriseby explaining.

  "My friend and I run a car each. He has a six-cylinder 'sixty' here, andwe want you to look after both. No cleaning. You are engineer, and willdrive occasionally. Come and see the other car." And taking me to therear of the premises, they showed me, standing in a newly built shed,one of the latest pattern six-cylinder "Napiers" fitted with everymodern improvement. It was painted cream, and upon the panels animposing crest. A big searchlight was set over the splash-board. It wasfitted with the latest lubrication, and seemed almost new. To me, motorenthusiast as I am, it was a delight to have such a splendid car undermy control, and my heart leapt within me.

  "My friend, Mr. Brackenbury, will be liberal in the matter of wages,"remarked Shand, "provided that you simply do as you are bid and ask noquestions. Blind obedience is all that we require. Our private businessdoes not concern you in the least--you understand that?"

  "Perfectly," I said.

  "Then if you make a promise of faithful and silent service, we shall payyou three pounds ten a week instead of the two ten which we arrangedthis morning," said Brackenbury.

  I thanked them both, and returning to the house Shand produced somewhisky and a syphon, gave me a drink and a cigar, and told me that if Iwished to stroll about for an hour I was at liberty to do so.

  The afternoon was a warm one in July, therefore I passed out into afield, and beneath the shade of a tree threw myself down to smoke andreflect. For nearly four months, though Ray and I had been everwatchful, we had discovered but little. We had had our suspicionsaroused, however, and I had resolved to follow them up. Both men seemedgood fellows enough, yet the glances they had exchanged were meaning,and thereby increased my suspicions.

  When, an hour later, I re-entered the house and knocked at the door ofthe room, I found the pair with a map spread out on the table. They hadevidently been in earnest consultation.

  "Fortunately for you you are not married, Nye," exclaimed the HonourableRobert, whom I strongly suspected to be of German birth, though he spokeEnglish perfectly and had appeared to have many friends among thehabitues of the "Savoy." Nye was the name I had given. "You'll have twoplaces of residence--here with Shand, and with me at my little placeover at Barnes. You know the main roads pretty well, you told me?"

  "I did a lot of touring when I was with Mr. Michelreid, the novelist," Isaid. "He used to be always in search of fresh places to write about. Wealways went to the Continent a lot."

  "Well," he laughed, "you'll soon have an opportunity of putting yourknowledge of the road to the test. To be of any real service to us,you'll have to be able to find your way, say, from here to Harwich inthe night without taking one wrong turning."

  "I've been touring England for nearly five years, off and on," I said,with confidence; "therefore few people know the roads, perhaps, betterthan myself."

  "Very well, we shall see," remarked Shand; "only not a word--not even toyour sweetheart. My friend and I are engaged in some purely privateaffairs--in fact, I think there is no harm in telling you--now that youare to be our confidential servant--that we are secret agents of theGovernment, and as such are compelled on occasions to act in a mannerthat any one unacquainted with the truth might consider somewhatpeculiar. Do you understand?"

  "Perfectly," I said.

  "And not a word must pass your lips--not to a soul," he urged. "For eachsuccess we gain in the various missions entrusted to us you will receivefrom the Secret Service fund a handsome honorarium as acknowledgment ofyour faithful services."

  Then he walked away, gaily singing the gay chanson of Magda at theAmbassadeurs:

  "Sous le ciel pur ou le ciel gris Des que les joyeux gazouillis Des oiselets se font entendre, Une voix amoureuse et tendre Par la fenetre au blanc rideau Lance les couplets d'un rondeau; C'est la voix d'une midinette Qui fait, en chantant, sa toilette. Ah! le joli reveil-matin, Quand il faut partir au turbin! Bientot, de la chambre voisine, Repond une voix masculine. Paris! Paris! Gai paradis! Voila les chansons de Paris!"

  Much gratified at securing such a post, I drove the Honourable Robertback to London and waited for him in the courtyard of the Hotel Cecilwhile he was inside for a quarter of an hour. Then, getting up beside mehe directed me to drive to Hammersmith Bridge, where, at a big block ofred-brick flats overlooking the river, called Lonsdale Mansions, wepulled up, and he took me up to his small cosily furnished flat, whereWilliam, the clean-shaven and highly-respectable valet, awaited him.

  The "ninety" was garaged, I found, almost opposite, and when I returnedto the flat the Honourable Robert was at the telephone in thedining-room talking to the man we had left near Welwyn.

  The elderly woman who acted as cook showed me my room, gave me mydinner, and I sat smoking with William for an hour or so afterwards.

  The valet was a very inquisitive person, and I could not fail to noticehow cleverly he tried to pump me concerning my post. He, however, failedto obtain much from me.

  "The guv'nor is one of the best fellows alive--a thorough sportsman," heinformed me. "Respect his confidence, and don't breathe a word to anyone as to his doings, and you'll find your place worth hundreds a year."

  "But why these strict injunctions regarding silence?" I inquired, in thehope of learning something.

  "Well--because he's compelled to mix himself up with queer affairs andqueer people sometimes, and in his position as the younger son of a peerit wouldn't do if it leaked out. I simply act as he bids, and seek noexplanation. You'll have to do the same."

  Hardly had he ceased speaking when "the guv'nor," in dinner-jacket andblack tie, entered, and said:

  "William, I want you to take a letter for me to Raven at Nottingham bythe next train. It leaves St. Pancras at 10.45. You'll be there at 2.30in the morning. He's at the 'Black Boy.' Get an answer and take the 5.50back. You'll be here again soon after nine in the morning."

  "Very well, sir," answered the valet, taking the letter from hismaster's hand; and ten minutes later he went downstairs to catch histrain.

  This incident showed that Robert Brackenbury was essentially a man ofaction. His keen, dark aquiline face, bright, sharp eyes, and quick,almost electric movements combined to show him to be a man of nerve,resource, and rapid decision. The square lower jaw betokened harddetermination, while at the same time his manner was easy, nonchalant,and essenti
ally that of a born gentleman.

  William returned next morning, and a few days passed uneventfully. Bothmorning and evening each day, at hours prearranged, he "got on" toShand, but their conversations were very enigmatical. Several times Ihappened to be in the room, but could learn nothing from the talk, whichseemed, in the main, to refer to the rise and fall of certain miningshares.

  Each day I drove him out in the "ninety." The car, a four-cylinder, hadno flexibility, and was a perfect terror in traffic. The noise it causedwas as though it had no silencer, while the police everywhere lookedaskance as we crept through the Strand, dodged the motor-buses in OxfordStreet, or put on a move down Kensington Gore.

  While Bob Brackenbury--as he was known to his friends of the"Savoy"--was out one day, I was in his bedroom with William, when thelatter opened one of the huge wardrobes there. Inside I saw hanging acollection of at least fifty coats of all kinds, some smart and oflatest style, others old-fashioned and dingy, while more than one wasgreasy, out-at-elbow, and ragged. I made no remark. Never in my life hadI seen such an extensive collection of clothes belonging to one man.Surely those ragged coats were kept there for purposes of disguise! Yetwould it not be highly necessary for a member of the Secret Service topossess certain disguises, I reflected!

  William noticed my interest, and shut the doors hurriedly.

  I drove Brackenbury hither and thither to various parts of London, forhe seemed to possess many friends. Once we took two pretty young ladiesfrom Hampstead down to the "Mitre" at Hampton Court, and on anotherafternoon we took a young French girl and her mother from the "Carlton"down to the "Old Bridge House" at Windsor.

  To me it was apparent that Bob Brackenbury was very popular with acertain set at the Motor Club, at the Automobile Club, and at otherresorts.

  My duties were not at all arduous, and such a thoroughgoing sportsmanwas my master that he treated me almost as an equal. When out in thecountry he compelled me to have lunch at his table "for company," hesaid. My people, I told him, had been wealthy before the South AfricanWar, but had been ruined by it, and though I had been at Rugby and haddone one year at Balliol College, Oxford, I hid the fact now that I wascompelled to earn my living as a mere chauffeur. He had no idea that Iwas a barrister, with chambers in New Stone Buildings.

  One morning after breakfast Mr. Brackenbury called me into the littledining-room, wherein stood his capacious roll-top desk against the wall,with the telephone upon it, and inviting me to a seat opposite thefireplace, said in a voice which betrayed just the faintest accent:

  "Nye, I want to speak confidentially to you for a few minutes. Yourecollect that the day before yesterday when down at Windsor I wasspeaking with a police-inspector in uniform, who called at the hotel tosee me, eh?"

  "Yes. He looked round the car and spoke to me. I thought he'd come totake our name for exceeding the limit on the Staines road."

  "You'd remember him again if you saw him?"

  "Certainly," was my prompt reply.

  "Well, don't forget him," he urged, "because you may, before long, berequired to meet him. And if you should chance to mistake the man, avery serious _contretemps_ would ensue."

  "I'd recognise him again among a thousand!" I declared.

  "Good. Now listen attentively to me for a few minutes," he said,lighting a fresh cigarette and fixing his dark, penetrating eyes uponmine. "I and my friend Shand have a very difficult task. A certainColonel von Rausch, of the German Intelligence Department, is, we havediscovered, in England on a secret mission. It is suspected that he ishere controlling a number of spies who had been engaged in staff-ridesin the eastern counties, and to receive their reports. My object is tolearn the truth, and it can only be done by great tact and caution. Itell you this so that any orders I give you may not surprise you. Obey,and do not seek motive. Am I clear?"

  "Certainly," I answered, interested in what he told me. It was curiousthat he, undoubtedly a German, was at the same time antagonistic to thecolonel of the Kaiser's army.

  "Well, I'm leaving London in an hour. Await orders from me, and obeythem promptly," he said, dismissing me.

  Through that day and the next I waited. He had taken William with himinto the country, and left me alone in the flat. Once or twice thetelephone rang, but to the various inquirers I replied that my masterwas absent.

  Inactivity there was tantalising. I was naturally fond of adventure, andI had taken on the guise of chauffeur surely for the unmasking of aforeign spy.

  On the third day, about two in the afternoon, I received a trunk call onthe 'phone. The post office at Market Harborough called me up, and thevoice which I heard was that of my master.

  "Oh! that's you, Nye!" he said. "Well, I want you to start in the carin an hour, and run her up to Peterborough. When in the Market Place,inquire the road to Edgcott Hall. It's about six miles out on theLeicester road. Inquire for me there as Captain Kinghorne--remember thename now. Do you hear distinctly?"

  I replied in the affirmative.

  "Recollect what I told you before I left. I shall expect you about six.Good-bye," he said, and then rang off.

  Full of excitement, I got out the car from the garage, filled the petroltank, saw to the carbide, and then set out across the suspension bridgeat Hammersmith, and went through Kensal Green and Hampstead over toHighgate, where I got upon the North Road.

  It had been raining, and there was plenty of mud about, but the big,powerful car ran well notwithstanding the terrific noise it created.Indeed, she was such a terror and possessed so many defects that littlewonder its maker had not placed his name upon her. As a hill-climber,however, she was excellent, and though being compelled constantly tochange my "speeds," I did an average of thirty miles an hour aftergetting into the open country beyond Codicote.

  Through crooked old Hitchin I slowed up, then away again through Henlowand Eton Socon up Alconbury Hill and down the broad road with its manytelegraph lines, I went with my exhaust open, roaring and throbbing,through Stilton village into the quiet old cathedral town ofPeterborough. Inquiry in the Market Place led me across a level crossingnear the station and down a long hill, then out again into a flatagricultural district until I came to the handsome lodge-gates ofEdgcott Hall.

  Up a fine elm avenue I went for nearly a mile, until I saw before me inthe crimson sunset a long, old Elizabethan mansion with high twistedchimneys and many latticed windows. The door was open, and as I pulledup I saw within a great high wall with stained windows like a church andstands of armour ranged down either side.

  A footman in yellow waistcoat answered my ring, and my inquiry forCaptain Kinghorne brought forth my master, smartly dressed in a brownflannel suit and smiling.

  "Hulloa, Nye!" he exclaimed. "Got here all right, then. Newton will showthe way to the garage," and he indicated the footman. "When you've puther up, I want to see you in my room."

  The footman, mounted beside me, directed me across the park to thekennels of the celebrated Edgcott hounds, and behind these I found awell-appointed garage, in which were two other cars, a "sixteen" Fiat ofa type three years ago, and a "forty" Charron with a limousine body, avery heavy, ponderous affair.

  A quarter of an hour later I found myself with the Honourable Bob in abig, old-fashioned bedroom overlooking the park.

  "You understood me on the 'phone, Nye?" he asked when I had closed thedoor and we were alone. "Shand is guest here with me under the name ofPawson, while, as you know, I'm Captain Kinghorne, D.S.O. This isnecessary," he laughed. "The name of Bob Brackenbury would, in aninstant, frighten away our friend the German. The people here, theEdgcotts, don't know our real names," he added. "All you have to do isto remain here and act as I direct."

  A moment later the stout American entered and greeting me, turned to hisfriend, saying:

  "I suppose Nye knows that Charles Shand is off the map at present, eh?"

  "I've just been explaining," my master replied.

  "And you'd better spread a picturesque story among the servants, too,Nye," the
American went on--"the bravery of Captain Kinghorne atLadysmith, and the wide circle of financial friends possessed byArchibald Pawson, of Goldfields, Nevada. The Edgcotts must be filled upwith us, and that infernal Dutchman mustn't suspect that we haveanything to do with Whitehall."

  At that moment William, the valet, came in.

  "Von Rausch met a strange man this afternoon in a little thatched inncalled the 'Fitzwilliam Arms,' over at Castor. They were nearly half anhour together. One of the grooms pulled up there for a drink and sawthem."

  "Suppose he met one of his secret agents," remarked my master, with aglance at his friend. "We've got to have our eyes open, and theremustn't be any moss on us in this affair. To expose this man and hisspying crowd will be to teach Germany a lesson which she's long wanted.We shall receive the private thanks of the Cabinet for our services,which would be to us, patriotic Englishmen as we all are, something tobe proud of."

  "Guess two heads are better than one, as the hatter said when twinsentered his shop," laughed the broad-faced American.

  We both agreed, and a few moments later I left the room.

  The Edgcotts seemed to be entertaining quite a large house-party, all ofthem smart people, for that evening after dinner I caught sight ofpretty women in handsome dresses and flashing jewels. Being a warmnight, bridge was played in the fine old hall, where the vaulted roofechoed back the well-bred laughter and gay chatter of the party, whichincluded Mr. Henry Seymour, Civil Lord of the Admiralty, and severalwell-known politicians.

  Essentially a sporting crowd, many of them were men and women who huntedin winter with the Cottesmore, the Woodland Pytchley and the Edgcottpacks. William and I peeped in through the crack of one of the doors,and he pointed out to me a tall, fair-haired, middle-aged man whosesoft-pleated shirt-front and the cut of whose dress-coat betrayed him tobe a foreigner. At that moment he was leaning over the chair of a prettylittle dark-haired woman in pale blue, who struck me as a foreigneralso, and who wore twisted twice around her neck a magnificent rope oflarge pearls.

  "That's von Rausch," William explained. "And look at the guv'nor!" headded. "He seems to be having a good time with the thin woman overthere. He's talking in French to her."

  My eyes wandered in search of Pawson, and I saw that he was seated atone of the bridge-tables silently contemplating his hand.

  The German spy was evidently a great favourite with the ladies. Perhapshis popularity with the fair sex had gained for him entry to that littlecircle of the elegant world. Two young girls approached him, laughinggaily and slowly fanning themselves. He then chatted with all three inEnglish which had only a slight trace of Teutonic accent.

  And that man was, I reflected, the head of a horde of secret agentswhich the German War Office had flung upon our eastern coast. To exposeand crush them all was surely the patriotic duty of any Englishman.

  The magnificent old mansion with its splendid paintings, its antiquefurniture, its armour, its bric-a-brac, old silver, and splendidheirlooms of the Edgcotts rang with the laughter of the assembly as twoyoung subalterns indulged in humorous horse-play.

  The appearance of the old sphinx-like family butler, however, compelledus to leave our point of observation, and for an hour I strolled withWilliam out in the park in the balmy moonlight of the summer night.

  "There'll be a sensation before long," declared the valet to me. "Youwatch."

  "In what way?" I inquired, with curiosity.

  "Wait and see," he laughed, as though he possessed knowledge of what wasintended.

  Next day I drove my master and the German Colonel over to Nottingham,where we put up for an hour at the Black Boy Hotel. This struck me ascurious, for I recollected that William had been sent down from Londonwith a message to some person named Raven staying at that hotel.

  All the way from Edgcott, through Oakham, Melton Mowbray, and Trent, Ihad endeavoured to catch some of the conversation between the pair inthe car behind me. The noise and rattle, however, prevented me fromoverhearing much, but the stray sentences which did reach me when Islowed down to change my speeds showed them to be on the most friendlyterms.

  Evidently the spy was entirely unsuspicious of his friend.

  At the hotel, after I had put up the car, I saw my master and the Germanspeaking with a tall, thin, consumptive-looking man in black, whosewhite tie showed him to be a dissenting minister. He was clean-shaven,aged fifty, and had an unusually protruding chin.

  All three went out together and walked along the street chatting. Whenthey had gone I went back into the yard, and on inquiry found that theminister was the Reverend Richard Raven, of the Baptist MissionarySociety.

  He had been a missionary in China, and had addressed several meetings inNottingham and the neighbourhood on behalf of the society.

  Why, I wondered, had Bob Brackenbury, so essentially a man about town,come there to consult a Baptist missionary, and accompanied, too, by theman he was scheming to unmask?

  But the ways of the Secret Service were devious and crooked, I argued.There was method in it all. Had Ray and I been mistaken after all? So I,too, lit a cigarette, and strolled out into the bustling provincialstreet awaiting my master and his friend.

  After an hour and a half the trio came back and had a drink together inthe smoking-room--the missionary taking lemonade--and then I broughtround the car, and we began the return journey of about sixty-fivemiles.

  "What do you think of it now?" asked my master of his companion as soonas we were away from the hotel.

  "Excellent!" was the German's reply. "It only now lies with her, eh?"And he laughed lightly.

  Dinner was over when we returned, and Captain Kinghorne was profuse inhis apologies to his host. I had previously been warned to say nothingof where we had been, and I heard my master explain that we had passedthrough Huntingdon, where a tyre-burst had delayed us.

  I became puzzled. Yes, it was certainly both interesting and exciting.Little did the gallant German Colonel dream of the sword of England'swrath suspended above his head.

  Nearly a week passed. Captain Kinghorne, D.S.O., and Mr. Pawson, ofGoldfields, Nevada, shared, I saw, with the Colonel the highestpopularity among members of the house-party. With Mr. Henry Seymour theyhad become on particularly friendly terms. There were picnics, tennis,and a couple of dances to which all the local notabilities were bidden.At them all Kinghorne was the life and soul of the general merriment. Agood many quiet flirtations were in progress too. Kinghorne seemed to beparticularly attracted by the pretty little widow whom I had first seenin pale blue, and who I discovered was French, her name being theBaronne de Bourbriac. She seemed to divide her attentions between Mr.Seymour and the German Colonel.

  From mademoiselle, her maid, I learned that Madame la Baronne had losther husband after only four months of matrimony, and now found herselfin possession of a great fortune, a house in the Avenue des ChampsElysees, a villa at Roquebrune, and the great mediaeval chateau ofBourbriac, in the great wine-lands along the Saone.

  Was she, I wondered, contemplating matrimony again? One evening beforethe dressing-bell sounded, I met them quite accidentally strollingtogether across the park, and the earnestness of their conversationcaused my wonder to increase.

  Careful observation, however, showed me that Colonel von Rausch wasalmost as much a favourite with the little widow as was the HonourableBob. Indeed, in the three days which followed I recognised plainly thatthe skittish little widow, so charming, so chic, and dressed with thatperfection only possible with the true Parisienne, was playing a doublegame.

  I felt inclined to tell my master, yet on due reflection saw that hislove affairs were no concern of mine, while to speak would be only tobetray myself as spying upon him.

  So I held silence, but nevertheless continued to watch.

  Several times I took out Brackenbury, Shand, von Rausch, and others inthe car. Twice the widow went for a run alone with my master and myself.Life was, to say the least, extremely pleasant in those warm summer daysat Edgcott.

>   Late one afternoon the Honourable Bob found me in the garage, and in alow voice said:

  "You must pretend to be unwell, Nye. I want to take von Rausch out bymyself, so go back to the house and pretend you're queer."

  This I did without question, and he and the Colonel were out together inan unknown direction until nearly midnight. Had they, I wondered, goneagain to meet the consumptive converter of the Chinese to Christianity?

  I took William into my confidence, but he was silent. He would expressno opinion.

  "There's no moss on the guv'nor, you bet," was all he would vouchsafe.

  Thus for yet another four days things progressed merrily at EdgcottHall. William had been sent away on a message up to Manchester, and Iwas taking his place, when one evening, while I was getting out "theguv'nor's" dress clothes, he entered the room, and closing the doorcarefully, said:

  "Be ready for something to happen to-night, Nye. We're going to hold upthe spy and make him disgorge all the secret reports supplied by hisagents. Listen to my instructions, for all must be done without anyfuss. We don't want to upset the good people here. You see that smalldressing-case of mine over there?"--and he indicated a squarecrocodile-skin case with silver fittings. "Well, at ten o'clock go andget the car out on the excuse that you have to go into Peterborough forme. You will find Shand's bag already in it, so put your own in also,but don't let anybody see you. Run her down the road about a mile fromthe lodge-gates and into that by-road just beyond the finger-posts whereI showed you the other day. Then pull up, put out the lights, and leaveher as though you've had a breakdown. Walk back here, get mydressing-case, and carry it back to the car. Then wait for us. Onlyrecollect, don't return to get my bag until half-past ten. You see thosetwo candles on the dressing-table? Now if any hitch occurs, I shalllight them. So if I do, leave my bag here and bring my car back. Youunderstand?"

  "Quite," I said, full of excitement. And then I helped him to dresshurriedly, and he went downstairs.

  We were about to "hold up" the spy. But how?

  Those hours dragged slowly by. I peeped into the hall after dinner andsaw the Honourable Bob seated in a corner with the Baronne, away fromthe others, chatting with her. The spy, all unsuspicious, was talking tohis hostess, while Shand was playing poker.

  Just before ten I crept out with my small bag, unseen by any one, andwalked across the park to the garage. The night was stormy, the moon washidden behind a cloud-bank. There was nobody about, so I got out the"ninety," started her, and mounting at the wheel was soon gliding downthe avenue, out of the lodge-gates, and into the by-road which theHonourable Bob had indicated. Descending, I looked inside the car andsaw that Shand's bag had already been placed there by an unknown hand.

  In that short run I noticed I had lost the screw cap of the radiator.This surprised me, for I recollected how that evening when filling upwith water I had screwed it down tightly. Somebody must have tamperedwith it--some stable lad, perhaps.

  Having extinguished the head-lights, I walked back to the Hall by thestile and footpath, avoiding the lodge-gates, and managed to slip up tomy master's room, just as the stable-clock was chiming the half hour.

  The candles were unlit. All was therefore in order. The dressing-bagwas, however, not there. I searched for it in vain. Then stealing outagain I sped by the footpath back to the car.

  Somebody hailed me in the darkness as I approached the spot where I hadleft her.

  I recognized the spy's voice.

  "Have you see Herr Brackenbury?" he asked in his broken English.

  I halted, amazed. The spy had, it seemed, outwitted us and upset all ourplans!

  Scarcely could I reply, however, before I heard a movement behind me,and two figures loomed up. They were my master and Shand.

  "All right?" inquired the American in a low voice, to which the spy gavean affirmative answer.

  "Light those lamps, Nye," ordered my master quickly. "We must get awaythis instant."

  "But----" I exclaimed.

  "Quick, my dear fellow! There's not a moment to lose. Jump in, boys," heurged.

  And a couple of minutes later, with our lamps glaring, we had turned outupon the broad highway and were travelling at a full forty miles an hourupon the high road to Leicester.

  What could it all mean? My master and his companion seemed on the mostfriendly terms with the spy.

  Ten miles from the lodge-gates of Edgcott at a cross-road we picked upan ill-dressed man whom I recognised as the Baptist missionary, RichardRaven, and with the Honourable Bob at my side directing me we tore onthrough the night, traversing numberless by-roads, until at dawn Isuddenly recognised that we were on the North Road, close to Codicote.

  A quarter of an hour later we had run the car round to the rear ofShand's pretty rose-embowered cottage, and all descended.

  I made excuse to the Honourable Bob that the screw top of the radiatorwas missing, whereupon von Rausch laughed heartily, and picking up apiece of wire from the bench he bent it so as to form a hook, and withit fished down in the hot water inside.

  His companions stood watching, but judge my surprise when I saw him of asudden draw forth a small aluminium cylinder, the top of which hescrewed off and from it took out a piece of tracing-linen tightlyfolded.

  This he spread out, and my quick eyes saw that it was a carefully drawntracing of a portion of the new type of battleship of the _Neptune_class (the improved _Dreadnought_ type), with many marginal notes inGerman in a feminine hand.

  In an instant the astounding truth became plain to me. The Baronne, whowas in von Rausch's employ, had no doubt surreptitiously obtained theoriginal from Mr. Henry Seymour's despatch-box, it having been sent downto him to Edgcott for his approval.

  A most important British naval secret was, I saw, in the hands of theclever spies of the Kaiser!

  I made no remark, for in presence of those men was I not helpless?

  They took the tracing in the house, and for half an hour held carousalin celebration of their success.

  Presently Brackenbury came forth to me and said:

  "The Colonel is going to Harwich this evening, and you must drive him.The boat for the 'Hook' leaves at half-past ten, I think."

  "Very well, sir," I replied, with apparent indifference. "I shall bequite ready."

  At seven we started, von Rausch and I, and until darkness fell I droveeastward, when at last we found ourselves in Ipswich.

  Suddenly, close to the White Horse Hotel and within hailing distance ofa police-constable, I brought the car to a dead stop, and turning to theGerman, who was seated beside me, said in as quiet a tone as I could:

  "Colonel von Rausch, I'll just trouble you to hand over to me thetracing you and your friends have stolen from Mr. Henry Seymour--thedetails of the new battleship about to be built at Chatham."

  "What do you mean?" cried the spy. "Drive on, you fool. I have no timeto lose."

  "I wish for that tracing," I said, whipping out the revolver I alwayscarried. "Give it to me."

  "What next!" he laughed, in open defiance. "Who are you, a mere servant,that you should dictate to me?"

  "I'm an Englishman!" I replied. "And I'll not allow you to take thatsecret to your employers in Berlin."

  The Colonel glanced round in some confusion. He was evidently averse toa scene in that open street.

  "Come into the hotel yonder," he said. "We can discuss the matterthere."

  "It admits of no discussion," I said firmly. "You will hand me thetracing over which you have so ingeniously deceived me, or I shall callthe constable yonder and have you detained while we communicate with theAdmiralty."

  "Drive on, I tell you," he cried in anger. "Don't be an ass!"

  "I am not a fool," I answered. "Give me that tracing."

  "Never."

  I turned and whistled to the constable, who had already noticed us inheated discussion.

  The officer approached, but von Rausch, finding himself in a corner,quickly produced an envelope containing the tracing and h
anded it to me,urging:

  "Remain silent, Nye. Say nothing. You have promised."

  I broke open the envelope, and after satisfying myself he had notdeceived me, I placed it safely in my breast-pocket, as further evidenceof the work of the Kaiser's spies amongst us.

  Then, with excuses to the constable, I swung the car into the yard ofthe White Horse Hotel, where the spy descended, and with a fierceimprecation in German he hurried out, and I saw him no more.

  At midnight I was in Ray's chambers, in Bruton Street, and we rang upMr. Henry Seymour, who had, we found, returned to his house in CurzonStreet from Edgcott only a couple of hours before.

  In ignorance that spies had obtained the secret of the _Neptune_ orimproved _Dreadnought_, he would not at first believe the story we toldhim.

  But when in his own library half an hour later we handed him back thetracing, he was compelled to admit the existence of German espionage inEngland, though in the House of Commons only a week before he hadscorned the very idea.