It was towards the close of an unusually long day's work and Major Thomson sighed with relief as he realised that at last his anteroom was empty. He lit a cigarette and stretched himself in his chair. He had been interviewed by all manner of people, had listened to dozens of suspicious stories. His work had been intricate and at times full of detail. On the whole, a good day's work, he decided, and he had been warmly thanked over the wires by a Brigadier-General at Harwich for his arrest and exposure of a man who had in his possession a very wonderful plan of the Felixstowe land defences. He lit a cigarette and glanced at his watch. Just then the door was hurriedly opened. Ambrose came in without even the usual ceremony of knocking. He held a worn piece of paper in his hand. There was a triumphant ring in his tone as he looked up from it towards his chief.
"I've done it, sir!" he exclaimed. "Stumbled across it quite by accident.
I've got the whole code. It's based upon the leading articles in the Times of certain dates. Here's this last message--'Leave London June 4th. Have flares midnight Buckingham Palace, St. Paul's steps, gardens in front of Savoy. Your last report received.'""'Leave London June 4th,'" Thomson repeated, glancing at his calendar,--"to-day! 'Have flares,'--Zeppelins, Ambrose!"The clerk nodded.
"I thought of them at once, sir," he agreed. "That's a very plain and distinct warning in a remarkably complicated code, and it's addressed--to Sir Alfred Anselman."A smouldering light flashed in Thomson's eyes.
"Ambrose," he declared, "you're a brick. I sha'n't forget this. Just find out at once if the Chief's in his room, please."There followed half an hour of breathless happenings. From the Chief's room Thomson hurried over to the Admiralty. Here he was taken by one of the men whom he had called to see, on to the flat roof, and they stood there, facing eastwards. Twilight was falling and there was scarcely a breath of air.
"It's a perfect night," the official remarked. "If they start at the right time, they'll get here before any one can see them. All the same, we're warning the whole coast, and our gun-stations will be served all night.""Shall we have a chance, do you think, of hitting any of them?" Thomson asked.
The sailor winked.
"There are a couple of gun-stations I know of not far from here," he said. "Itell you they've got armament there which will make our friends tear their hair' shells that burst in the air, mind, too, which you needn't mind letting 'em have as quick as we can fire 'em off. I shall try and get on to one of those stations myself at midnight.""What time do you think they'd attack if they do get over?"The other took out his watch and considered the subject.
"Of course," he reflected, "they'll want to make the most of the darkness, but I think what they'll aim at chiefly is to get here unobserved. Therefore, Ithink they won't start until it's dark, probably from three or four different bases. That means they'll be here a little before dawn. I shall just motor my people up to Harrow and get back again by midnight."Thomson left the Admiralty, a little later, and took a taxi to Berkeley Square. The servant hesitated a little at his inquiry.
"Miss Geraldine is in, sir, I believe," he said. "She is in the morning-room at the moment.""I shall not keep her," Thomson promised. "I know that it is nearly dinner-time."The man ushered him across the hall and threw open the door of the little room at the back of the stairs.
"Major Thomson, madam," he announced.
Geraldine rose slowly from the couch on which she had been seated. Standing only a few feet away from her was Granet. The three looked at one another for a moment and no word was spoken. It was Geraldine who first recovered herself.
"Hugh!" she exclaimed warmly. "Why, you are another unexpected visitor!""I should not have come at such a time," Thomson explained, "but I wanted just to have a word with you, Geraldine. If you are engaged, your mother would do.""I am not in the least engaged," Geraldine assured him, "and I have been expecting to hear from you all day. I got back from Boulogne last night.""None the worse, I am glad to see," Thomson remarked.
She shivered a little. Then she looked him full in the face and her eyes were full of unspoken things.
"Thanks to you," she murmured. "However," she added, with a little laugh, "Idon't want to frighten you away, and I know what would happen if I began to talk about our adventure. I am sorry, Captain Granet," she went on, turning towards where he was standing, "but I cannot possibly accept your aunt's invitation. It was very good of her to ask me and very kind of you to want me to go so much, but to-night I could not leave my mother. She has been having rather a fit of nerves about Ralph the last few days, and she hates being left alone.""Captain Granet is trying to persuade you to leave London this evening?"Thomson asked quietly.
"He wants me very much to go down to Lady Anselman's at Reigate to-night,"Geraldine explained. "I really accepted Lady Anselman's invitation some days ago, but that was before mother was so unwell. I have written your aunt, Captain Granet," she continued, turning to him. "Do please explain to her how disappointed I am, and it was very nice of you to come and ask me to change my mind."There was brief but rather curious silence. Granet had turned away form Geraldine as though to address Thomson. He was meeting now the silent, half contemptuous challenge of the latter's eyes.
"Captain Granet is showing great consideration for your comfort and safety,"Thomson remarked.
Granet for a moment forgot himself. His eyes flashed. He was half angry, half terrified.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
Thomson made no immediate answer. He seemed to be pondering over his words, his expression was inscrutable. Geraldine looked from one to the other.
"There is something between you two which I don't understand," she declared.
