'Fine figure for a uniform, sir,' he ventured.
'I am an alien,' Lavendale replied, watching a troop of recruits pass by.
'American, sir?'
'That's so,' Lavendale admitted.
The sergeant looked him up and down and sighed.
'America's a country, begging your pardon, sir, that don't seem to have much stomach for fighting,' he remarked, as the young man passed on.
Lavendale crossed the street with a slight frown upon his forehead. He made his way to the War Office and found Captain Merrill in his room alone. The two men exchanged the greetings of intimate friends.
'Say, Reggie,' Lavendale began, 'you folks are getting kind of nervy, aren't you? A recruiting sergeant in Trafalgar Square has just gently intimated to me that I belong to a country which has no stomach for fighting.'
Merrill grinned as he tossed his cigarette case over.
'Well,' he remarked, 'you don't seem to be exactly spoiling for the fray15, do you?'
Lavendale lit a cigarette.
'Look here,' he said, 'it's all very well for you fellows to talk. You've got the war fever in your blood. You're in it deep yourselves and there's a sort of gloomy satisfaction in seeing every one else in the same box. The chap who goes out to provoke a fight is worse, of course, but the one who springs up and reaches for his gun at the first chance of joining in, is playing his game, isn't he?'
'Perhaps you are right,' Merrill admitted.
'I'm not telling you or any one else exactly what my opinion is about America's policy,' Lavendale continued. 'I'll only remind you that, even when those truculent16 forefathers17 of ours went out to fight, they stopped to put on their armour18. Is there anything fresh?'
'I don't know,' was the somewhat doubtful reply. 'There is a queer sort of feeling of apprehension19 everywhere this morning. The Chief's been round to see the Prime Minister and on to the Admiralty. There's a rumour20 that he went round to Buckingham Palace, too. Looks as though there were something up.'
'You know all about it, I suppose,' Lavendale remarked quietly.
'Not a thing!'
The young American knocked the ash from his cigarette.
'The history of this war,' he went on, 'will make mighty21 interesting reading, but there's another history, a history that will never be written, the history of the unrecorded things. Gee22, that would make people gossip if they could get hold of only a few chapters of it! You know there's something strange afoot, Reggie. So do I, though we sit here lying to one another. I doubt whether the man in the street will ever know.'
Merrill selected another cigarette.
'I don't see where you come in here, Ambrose.'
'Neither do I,' the other agreed. 'Still, the truth comes to light in strange ways sometimes. Last night I had a cable from a friend in Petrograd, advising me to buy all Russian securities.'
'Well?'
'If there is to be any change for the better in the valuations of Russian stock,' Lavendale continued slowly, 'that is to say any immediate23 change, it can only mean one thing.'
Merrill struggled hard to preserve his expression of polite vacuity24.
'There are very few people,' he murmured, 'who really understand Russia.'
Lavendale shrugged25 his shoulders.
'It isn't exactly my show, you know!'
'It ought to be,' Merrill retorted curtly26.
'Why?'
'Just common-sense. If we don't win in this war, it will be your turn next. Japan and Germany you'll have to face—you can take my word for that—and I hope you'll like it. If we lose our Fleet, it's good-bye to American independence.'
'Plain and simple words, young fellow!'
'Not so plain or so simple as they are true.'
Lavendale threw away his cigarette and stretched out his hand for his hat.
'Well,' he said, 'I used to flatter myself that I was an out-and-out neutral, but I'm beginning to fancy that my sympathies are leaning a little towards your side of the show. Anyhow, I've no reason to keep secret the little I know about this affair—in fact I came down here to tell you. New York was talking openly last night of peace being proclaimed between Germany and Russia within a week.'
'We've tried her sorely,' Merrill confessed doggedly27, 'but I don't believe it.'
Lavendale rose to his feet.
'I tell you, Merrill,' he said, 'if you'd been about town as much as I have for the last twenty-four hours, you'd begin to wonder yourself whether something wasn't amiss. These rumours28 and feelings of depression are one of the strangest features of the war, but there it is at the present moment, in the streets and the clubs and the restaurants—wherever you turn. I've noticed nothing like it since the beginning of the war. The optimists29 are still cackling away, but it's there all the same—a grim, disheartening fear. One man told me last night that he knew for a fact that Russia was on the point of suing for peace.'
Merrill shook his head as he resumed his place at his desk.
'It's just a phase,' he declared. 'Look in and see me again, Ambrose, when you're feeling a little more cheerful.' ...
Lavendale made a call in the Strand30 and passed along that crowded, illuminative31 thoroughfare towards the Milan. Everywhere the faces of the passers-by seemed indicative of some new apprehension. He bought an early paper, but there was no word in it of any change in the situation. On any printed presentation of the rumours which were on every one's tongue, the censor32 had set his foot.
Lavendale called in at the bar at the Milan for a few minutes. The same feeling was there even more in evidence.
'What's it all mean?' he asked an American pressman whom he knew slightly.
The newspaper man nodded sagely33.
'Guess the cat's out of the bag now,' he opined. 'Russia has asked for peace and she is going to have it on generous terms. They say that negotiations34 are going on right here, under the Britisher's very nose. Things'll be pretty lively here soon.'
Lavendale took his place in the luncheon-room, a few minutes later. As usual he glanced expectantly towards the corner which Suzanne de Freyne frequently occupied. There were no signs of her to-day, however. He gave his order and leaned back in his place. Then some fancy impelled35 him to glance towards the glass entrance doors on his left. He sprang at once to his feet. Suzanne, her face whiter than ever, a queer, furtive gleam in her dark eyes, was looking eagerly into the room. She saw him almost at the same moment and hurried in.
'Suzanne!' he exclaimed. 'What luck! You are going to lunch with me, of course?'
A ma?tre d'h?tel was holding the vacant chair at his table. With a little sigh she relapsed into it. She was plainly dressed and had the appearance of having newly arrived from a journey.
'I suppose I had better have something to eat,' she sighed. 'Order something—anything,' she added, brushing the carte away. 'It was you I came to see.'
He recognized at once the fact that she was in no humour for trivialities. He gave a brief order to the waiters, waved them away and leaned towards her.
'You can command me,' he assured her. 'My time is yours.'
She drew a little sigh of relief. For a moment her little white fingers rested upon his strong brown hand, the tenseness passed from her manner, it was as though she found something composing in his strength.
'I have been travelling for forty-eight hours,' she said, speaking under her breath, 'and I had an escape, a very narrow escape, in Belgium. You do not want to understand everything, do you?'
'Nothing more than you choose,' he replied. 'I am your Man Friday.'
'Listen, then. Your car—it is in order?'
'Perfect. I came up from Bath the day before yesterday—sixty miles on the level and never changed speeds.'
'How long would it take you to get me down to the east coast?' she asked eagerly.
'What part?'
She hesitated.
'A small place called Blakeney, between Sheringham and Wells.'
He figured it out.
'Let me see,' he said,—'two hours to Newmarket, two more to Fakenham, saving a little on both runs if we escaped a puncture—say four hours and a half, Suzanne.'
'And your car?'
'In the garage, five minutes away in a taxicab.'
She breathed another sigh of relief.
'Now I shall eat some luncheon,' she declared. 'You will not mind if we commit ourselves to rather a wild-goose adventure?'
'I shall enjoy it immensely,' he assured her, 'if one can use such a word at all these days.'
He ordered some wine and watched the colour come back to her cheeks. Towards the end of the meal, however, she glanced often at the clock. He read her thoughts, signed his bill and stood up.
'I am going upstairs to my room for a moment,' she said briskly. 'Will you have a taxicab waiting?'
'Of course!'
She was gone barely ten minutes. When she came down she carried a small travelling case and wore a thick veil. He hurried her into the taxi, drove to the garage, and in less than half-an-hour London lay behind them, and the car was gathering36 speed at every moment. They passed through Finchley and Potter's Bar, slowed up through St. Albans, and settled down at racing37 speed, northwards. Suzanne opened her eyes.
'I am having a delicious rest,' she murmured.
'Where would you like some tea?' he inquired.
'Not yet. Push on as far as you can,' she begged. 'What time shall we reach Fakenham?'
He glanced at the clock on the splashboard.
'If you really like to run right through,' he said, 'you shall be there by six o'clock.'
She patted the hand which gripped the steering38 wheel.
'You dear person!' she exclaimed softly. 'Now I close my eyes again. I think I will sleep a little. Until I reached my rooms at twelve o'clock to-day I had not had my clothes off for two days. This air and the rest are wonderful.'
She settled back in her place and he touched the accelerator with his foot. Through Stevenage and Baldock, across the great open spaces to Royston, at sixty miles an hour to Newmarket, up the hill, along the Norwich road, then round to the left to Brandon, across the miles of heath with the stunted39 pine trees and miles of heather, into the more luxurious40 pastoral country of eastern Norfolk. It was half-past five when they crossed Fakenham Common and crept through the narrow streets of the old-fashioned town. He turned to look at her. She was still sleeping. She woke, however, as the car slackened speed.
'Where are we?' she asked.
'Fakenham,' he told her, 'with half-an-hour to spare. It's just half-past five.'
'You wonderful person,' she sighed, shaking herself free from the rugs.
They drew up in the archway 01 the hotel and made their way up the outside stairs into the old-fashioned coffee-room. She drank tea and toyed with her bread and butter absently. She looked continually out of the window, seawards.
'It is a wonderful day,' she said thoughtfully. 'There is no wind at all. They might come even before the time.'
He made her light a cigarette, followed her example, and in a few minutes they were again in the car. Half-an-hour later they looked down upon the quaint41, old-world village of Blakeney, set amidst the marshlands, and beyond, the open sea. Suzanne was all alertness now and sat up by his side, gazing eagerly towards the line of white breakers. Suddenly, with a warning hoot43, a long, grey car which had come up noiselessly behind them, swept past at a great speed. Suzanne gave a little exclamation44.
'It is the car, I am sure!' she declared. 'It has come to meet him! All that I was told is true.'
'It's some car, all right,' Lavendale remarked, 'but I wouldn't have taken his dust as quietly as this if I'd heard him coming.'
She laughed at him.
'That car,' she said, 'is bound on the same errand that we are. It is on its way to Blakeney to meet the same passenger.'
'Well, we're in time, anyway,' was his only comment.
They slackened speed as they turned into the long, narrow street. About half-way down, the car in front of them was stopped by a soldier with drawn45 bayonet. A non-commissioned officer by the side was talking to the driver. Close at hand, a man in civilian46 clothes was lounging in front of what seemed to be the guardroom. Suzanne clutched her companion's arm in excitement.
'Ambrose!' she exclaimed. 'That's Major Elwell—the man in mufti, I mean! He is one of the chiefs of the English Secret Service.'
'I shall have to know a little more about this before I can catch on,' Lavendale confessed.
He brought his car slowly up behind the other one. The driver had raised his goggles47 and was seated in an impassive attitude whilst his license48 was being examined. Presently the little green book was returned to him and he moved slowly down the village street. Lavendale's license was inspected in the same fashion, after which they, too, followed down the village street, which terminated abruptly49 in a small dock, reached by an arm of the sea. Lavendale turned his car into the gateway50 of the inn, and together, a few moments later, they strolled down to the harbour. Only a thin stream of water covered the bottom of the estuary51, scarcely enough to float a rowing boat, and one or two sailing barques were lying high and dry upon the mud. The stranger, who had drawn up his car by the side of the wall, was standing52 looking out seaward through a pair of field-glasses. Lavendale gazed across the marshes53 in the same direction, doubtfully.
'Say, you don't expect any ship that could cross the North Sea to come into dock here, do you?' he asked.
She nodded.
'Quite a large ship could come up at high tide,' she explained, 'but to-night they will not wait for the deep water. They will anchor outside and sail up in a smaller boat. Come for a walk a little way. That man is watching us.'
They strolled along a sandy lane, through a gate on the left opening on to the marshes. It was a grey and sombre evening, strangely still, colourless alike on sea and land and sky. A thin handful of cattle was stretched across the dyke-riven plain, a crowd of seagulls flapped their wings wearily overhead. Everywhere else an intense and almost mournful silence prevailed. Suzanne climbed to the top of one of the dykes54 and looked intently seaward.
'You see!' she exclaimed, pointing.
A small boat was anchored at the opening of the estuary. Beyond, almost on the horizon, was a thin line of smoke.
'They will not wait for the tide,' she told him, 'not the full tide, that is. They will come up as soon as that sailing boat can make the passage.'
'And who,' Lavendale inquired, 'will be the passenger?'
Her eyes flashed for a moment.
'He will be the man,' she said solemnly, 'who seeks to destroy France.' ...
They wandered a little way further out into the marshland. The air seemed to possess a peculiar55 saltiness—even in that slightly moving breeze they could feel the brackish56 taste upon their lips. They watched the tidal way grow deeper every minute. On either side of them the narrow dykes and curving waterways grew fuller and fuller with the tendrils of the sea. About a mile from the distant coast-line the steamer seemed to have come to an anchor, and the white-sailed boat was fluttering about her. Suzanne took Lavendale's arm. He could feel that she was trembling.
'Look here,' he begged, 'tell me a little more of what is going to happen?'
'Somebody will be landed from that steamer,' she said. 'They will come up here, get into the motor-car and start for London. That some one will be empowered to put certain propositions before the Russian Ambassador here, which he in his turn can convey to the Tsar in code. Those propositions will be for a peace which will exclude my country and yours, which will give Russia, temporarily defeated, the terms of a conquering nation.'
He laughed a little contemptuously.
'You don't need to worry, child,' he assured her. 'Russia isn't going to cave in yet awhile.'
'Not in any ordinary fashion,' she replied, 'but one lives in dread57 of some terrible disaster, and then—— These terms, they say, are to be left over for a month. Think of the temptation—all the fruits of victory offered in the very blackest moment of despair. Look!'
She pointed58 to the mouth of the river. The white-sailed boat was already commencing the passage of the estuary.
'Come,' she exclaimed, 'we must get back.'
They hurried across the marsh42, finding their way with more difficulty now owing to the inward sweep of the tide, filling the narrow places with the soft swirl59 of salt-water. When they reached the raised path by the side of the estuary, the sailing boat was almost by their side. A man was seated in the stern, muffled60 up in an overcoat and wearing a tweed cap.
'There he is,' she murmured.
Lavendale glanced at the man in a puzzled fashion. Just at that moment the latter turned his head. He was dark, clean-shaven, and slightly built.
'Something rather familiar about him,' Lavendale muttered. 'You don't know his name?'
She shook her head.
'Wait,' she begged.
They reached the dock just as the boat was drawing up to the quay-side.
'Get out the car, please,' Suzanne directed, 'and drive slowly up the street, just past the guardroom. Wait there as though we had been stopped again.'
Lavendale obeyed. This time, as they drew up, Major Elwell leaned over the front of the car.
'He is here, I understand, Miss de Freyne,' he said softly. 'Are you going to stay? There may be a little trouble.'
She laughed derisively61.
'This is Mr. Lavendale,' she whispered. 'He will take care of me, Major Elwell.'
The latter looked keenly at Lavendale and nodded.
'It's a queer piece of business, this,' he observed. 'Maybe our information is all wrong, after all.'
The other car came gliding62 up the village street and was brought to a standstill only a foot behind them. The driver addressed the sergeant almost angrily.
'I showed you my license a few minutes ago,' he protested. 'What's that other car doing ahead, blocking up the way?'
Lavendale drew slightly on one side. A soldier, with fixed63 bayonet, slipped into the little space between the two cars. Major Elwell turned towards the passenger.
'Sorry to trouble you, sir,' he said, 'but I must ask you to step inside the guardroom for a moment.'
'What do you want with me?' was the quick reply.
'You've landed from a steamer here, rather an exceptional thing to do anyway,' Major Elwell explained. 'There are just a few questions we should like to ask.'
'I'm an American citizen,' the other declared. 'I have my passport here. I can land where I choose.'
'In ordinary times, without a doubt,' the Major replied smoothly64. 'Just now, I am sorry to be troublesome, but there are some new enactments65 which have to be considered. We shall have to ask you to give up anything you may have in the way of correspondence, for instance, to be censored66.'
There was a moment's silence. The face of the man in the car had suddenly become tense. Lavendale, who had been looking around, gave a little start.
'Why, it's Johnson!' he exclaimed—'Leonard Johnson! You remember me, don't you—Lavendale?'
The man in the car nodded eagerly.
'Of course!' he assented67. 'Look here, if you've any pull in these parts, I wish you'd persuade this officious gentleman to let me go on quickly. I'm in a hurry to reach London.'
'I'm afraid I can't,' Lavendale regretted. 'I'm hung up myself for some piffling reason. Where have you come from?'
'Holland,' was the brief reply.
'If you are really in a hurry, sir,' Major Elwell intervened politely,' you are only wasting time by this discussion with your friend. Before you proceed, you will have to come into the guardroom with me.'
'I'm damned if I do!' Mr. Johnson replied. 'If you lay hands on me, I'll report the whole affair at the Embassy directly I arrive in London. I'm well enough known there, and they'll tell you that I am in the American Embassy at Berlin.'
Lavendale shook his head gently.
'Not at the present moment, I think, Johnson,' he remarked. 'I'll answer for it, though, that you are a reputable American citizen.'
'My instructions are entirely68 independent of your nationality,' Major Elwell said firmly. 'I must trouble you to descend69 at once.'
There was scarcely a whisper, scarcely even a glance between the two men in the hindmost car. Action seemed to be entirely spontaneous. Their car, which had moved perhaps a foot or so back while they were talking, as though the brakes had failed to hold, was suddenly swung to the right. The front wing caught the soldier who was standing on guard, and the car, plunging70 forward with one wheel upon the pavement, threw him off his balance. He reeled back against the wall, and almost before they could realize what had happened, the car was tearing up the hill. The sergeant snatched a rifle from one of the men but Major Elwell stretched out his hand.
'We don't want that!' he exclaimed. 'Telephone at once to all the places en route to London, car number LC 3221. Can you make any sort of speed, Mr. Lavendale?'
'Jump in,' was the grim reply. 'You'll soon see.'
They dashed up the hill, travelling almost at the same speed as the other car. As they passed the church they saw it a speck71 in the distance, climbing the next hill. Lavendale slipped in his fourth speed.
'Thank God for the dust!' he muttered. 'We shall see which way they go. Hold on, Suzanne. We'll have to take risks.'
The air rushed past them. The finger of the spedometer crept up from thirty to fifty and sixty miles an hour. They swung round the corner, and through a tiny village, a cloud of dust rising behind, heedless of the curses shouted after them by the irate72 foot passengers.
'He's gone to the right,' Lavendale announced. 'That's Letheringsett. He'll leave the London road, though, if he can.'
'He'll try to give you the slip,' Major Elwell remarked, 'and take the train from somewhere.'
Lavendale smiled. The finger in front of them was still creeping upwards73. They missed a hay wagon74 by a few inches. The pillar of dust in front of them grew nearer.
'We'll shepherd him into Fakenham,' Lavendale muttered. 'I could catch him now, if I wanted. They'll have had the message there, though.'
They skirted Letheringsett, up the hill, round corner after corner, through Thursford, with barely a hundred yards dividing them. Once, at some cross-roads, the car in front seemed to hesitate and they shot up to within fifty yards. The light now was becoming bad. There were little patches of shadow where the trees overhung the road.
'They're giving it up!' Lavendale exclaimed. 'By Jove, we've got them!'
He pointed forward. The road running into Fakenham narrowed. A line of three soldiers stood across the thoroughfare. With a grinding of brakes and ponderous75 swaying of the foremost car, the chase was over. Mr. Leonard Johnson descended76, shaking the dust from his coat.
'Following me?' he asked Lavendale sarcastically77.
Major Elwell's hand fell upon his shoulder.
'We're not meaning to lose sight of you again just yet, sir,' he said.
'You know what risk you run in interfering78 with an American citizen?' the other demanded.
'Perfectly,' Major Elwell replied.
'You don't, that's certain, or you wouldn't attempt it,' Johnson snapped. 'However, we can't talk in the street. I'll get into your car and go on to the inn with you.'
They drove on to the Crown Inn, mounted the outside staircase, Lavendale in front and Major Elwell bringing up the rear. The coffee-room was empty. They rang for refreshments79 and dismissed the waiter. Johnson threw back his overcoat.
'Now, let's have this out,' he began truculently80, addressing Major Elwell. 'Who the mischief81 are you, and what do you mean by following me like this?'
'I am censor for the neighbourhood in which you landed from Holland, Mr. Johnson,' was the quiet reply. 'Your present position is entirely the result of your own injudicious behaviour.'
'What exactly do you want?' Johnson demanded.
'After your attempts to escape,' Major Elwell announced, 'I shall be compelled to search you.'
Johnson drew a revolver from his pocket. His manner remained bellicose82.
'Look here,' he said, 'if you're looking for trouble you can have it. I don't recognize the right of anybody to interfere83 with my movements.'
Major Elwell strolled slowly across the room to where Johnson was standing, looking all the time down the muzzle84 of the outstretched revolver.
'One moment, Mr. Johnson,' he said. 'Do you mind glancing out of this window? No, you can keep your weapon—I've no designs on that. Just look down into the street.'
Johnson did as he was bidden. Half a dozen soldiers were lined up outside the entrance.
'Then out of the door, if you please,' the Major further suggested.
He held it open. At the bottom of the stairs a sentry85 was standing with drawn bayonet. Johnson stared at him for a moment. Then he turned abruptly away.
'Look here,' he said hoarsely86, 'this censor business don't go with me. You're lying!'
'Perhaps so,' Major Elwell admitted smoothly, 'and so are you. You mentioned, I think, that you had been in the American Embassy at Berlin. You omitted to mention, however, that you have since joined the German Secret Service. As that fact is well-known to us, you can understand, I dare say, why we regard this landing of yours upon a lonely part of the coast with some—shall I say suspicion?'
Johnson stood very still for a moment. He seemed to be thinking deeply.
'This censorship of yours is a bluff87, I suppose,' he muttered.
'Amongst many other positions,' Major Elwell admitted, 'I also hold a somewhat important place in the English Secret Service. You have, I trust, one of the first qualifications for useful service in your profession—you are able to recognize the inevitable88? You are face to face with it now.'
There was a brief silence. Johnson was standing at the window with his hands behind him. Presently he turned around.
'Very well,' he pronounced curtly, 'you've got me fairly enough. Go ahead.'
'You see,' Major Elwell explained, 'you might, under the present laws, be treated as an ordinary indiscreet traveller—or as a spy. Better hand over everything you are carrying.'
Johnson opened his coat pocket and threw a few letters and a pocket-book upon the table. Major Elwell glanced them through and sighed. Then he turned towards Suzanne.
'If you would give us a couple of minutes, please,' he begged.
Lavendale led her out into the yard. In a few minutes the door behind them was thrown open. The Major was standing at the top of the steps.
'Where's the car?' he shouted—'the car they came in?'
Lavendale looked down the yard and dashed into the street.
'Where's the other car?' he asked one of the soldiers on guard.
'No instructions to detain it, sir,' the man replied. 'The chauffeur89 drove it to the garage to fill up with petrol.'
They ran across the street in a little procession. The man in charge of the place stared at them, a little dazed.
'Car came in about ten minutes ago—a great Delauney-Belleville,' he informed them. 'She filled up and started off for London.'
Major Elwell turned towards Lavendale and laughed hardly.
'That fellow's first job, he muttered, 'and he's done us in! The documents he was carrying are in that car!'
*****
Major Elwell spent the next hour in the telegraph office whilst Lavendale and Suzanne raced southwards. More than once they had news of the car of which they were in pursuit. At Brandon it was only twenty minutes ahead, and at Newmarket they learnt that the driver had called at the station, found there was no train for an hour and continued his journey. From Newmarket, through Six-Mile-Bottom and onwards, they touched seventy miles an hour, and even Suzanne shivered a little in her seat. At the Royston turn the sparks flew upwards through the grey light as Lavendale's brakes bit their way home.
'Two ways to London here,' he muttered. 'Wait.'
He took a little electric torch from his pocket and stooped down in the road. In less than a dozen seconds he was back in the driving seat.
'By Royston,' he whispered. 'I fancy, somehow, we are gaining on him.'
They tore onwards along the narrow but lonelier road. Once, on a distant hillside far in front, they caught the flash of a light. Lavendale gave a little whoop90 of triumph.
'We shall get him,' he cried fiercely. 'We've twenty miles of road like this to Royston.'
The excitement of the chase began to tell on both of them. Suzanne, sitting close to the side of the car, leaned a little forward, her eyes bright, her hair wind-tossed, her cheeks flushed, breathless all the time with the lashing91 of their speed-made wind. Lavendale sat like a figure of wood, leaning a little over his wheel, his hands rigid92, his whole frame tense with the strain. Once more they saw the light, this time a little nearer. Then they skidded93 crossing an unexpected railway track, took a few seconds to right themselves, and the light shot ahead. They passed through Royston and shot up the hill, scarcely slackening speed. It was a little before moonlight now, and the heath stretching away on their left seemed like some silent and frozen sea on which the mists rested lightly. Suddenly a little cry broke from Lavendale's lips, his foot crushed down upon the brakes. In front of them, by the side of the road, was the other car, disabled, its left wheel missing, the driving seat empty. They came to a standstill within a few feet of it and Lavendale leapt lightly out. Lying with his head upon the grass was the driver. Lavendale bent94 rapidly over him.
'The front wheel must have shot off and pitched him forward,' he explained to Suzanne. 'I'm afraid he is hurt. You'd better go and sit in the car.'
Then the woman he had seen nothing of blazed out from the girl by his side.
'Do not be foolish,' she cried fiercely. 'He is alive, is he not? Quick! Search him!'
Lavendale for a moment was staggered. He was feeling for the man's heart.
'What is the life or death of such as he!' she continued, almost savagely95. 'Search him, I say!'
Lavendale obeyed her, a little dazed. There was a license, a newspaper of that morning's date, a few garage receipts for petrol, a handkerchief, a penknife and a large cigarette case—not another thing. She pushed him on one side while she felt his body carefully. The man opened his eyes, groaning.
'My leg!' he muttered.
Lavendale stood up.
'I think that's all that's the matter with him,' he pronounced—'fracture of the leg. We'd better take him back to the hospital.'
'Leave him alone,' she ordered. 'Come here with me at once.'
Lavendale obeyed mutely. She sprang up into the dismantled96 car and began feeling the cushions.
'Look in the pockets,' she directed.
Lavendale turned them inside out. There were maps, a contour book, an automobile97 handbook, more garage receipts, an odd glove—nothing of interest. Suddenly Suzanne gave a little cry. She bent closer over the driving cushion, pulled at a little hidden tab, opened it. There reposed98 a letter in a thick white envelope, the letter of their quest. Lavendale flashed his electric torch upon it. It was addressed in plain characters:—
To His Excellency.
He thrust it into his pocket.
'Look here,' he insisted, 'we've found what we want. We must see about that man now.'
They lifted him into their car and drove him back to the hospital. Lavendale left money, called at the police-station and gave information about the accident. Then they ran up to the hotel and stood side by side for a moment in the dimly-lit, stuffy99 coffee-room. He drew the letter from his pocket.
'Well?' he asked.
She glanced at the seal—huge and resplendent.
'It is only the first part of our task that is done,' she sighed, 'yet everything is ready for the second. That letter will be delivered. It is the answer we want.'
She took the letter and placed it in the small bag she was carrying.
'Some sandwiches, please,' she begged, 'and then London.'
*****
Twenty-four hours later they sat in her little sitting-room100. Suzanne was restless and kept glancing at the clock, lighting101 cigarettes and throwing them away. Often she glanced at Lavendale, imperturbable102, a little troubled.
'Why do you frown?' she demanded.
'I don't know,' he answered simply. 'This business has its dark side, you know. I was thinking of it from your point of view. You are going to open a friend's letter—that's what it comes to. You're on fire to see whether your friend, whom you should trust, is as honourable103 as you think him. It leaves an unpleasant flavour, you know.'
She came to a standstill before him.
'My friend,' she said, 'you have something yet to learn in our profession. It is this—honour and joy, conduct itself, idealism, all those things that make up the mesh104 of life, lose their significance to the man or woman who works for his country as I have done, as you have commenced to do. I am for France alone, and for France's sake I have no character. For France's sake I have sent a dummy105 messenger to the Prince. For France's sake I shall open the reply. It may tell me everything, it may tell me nothing, but one must be warned.'
There was a ring at the bell. A young man entered, closing the door behind him. Suzanne almost sprang towards him.
'You have the answer?' she cried.
The messenger bowed. Suzanne was suddenly calm. She tore open the long, thick envelope with trembling fingers. She peered inside for a moment, doubtfully. Then her whole face relaxed, her eyes flashed with joy. She held the envelope up over the table. A little stream of torn pieces of paper fell from it. Her eyes were moist as she watched them.
'It is the offer of our enemy,' she cried, 'and the answer of our ally! Some scraps106 of paper!'
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1
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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7
tragical
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| adj. 悲剧的, 悲剧性的 | |
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8
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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10
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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11
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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12
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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13
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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insinuatingly
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15
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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16
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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17
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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18
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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20
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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21
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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22
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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23
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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24
vacuity
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| n.(想象力等)贫乏，无聊，空白 | |
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25
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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26
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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28
rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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29
optimists
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| n.乐观主义者( optimist的名词复数 ) | |
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30
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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31
illuminative
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| adj.照明的，照亮的，启蒙的 | |
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32
censor
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| n./vt.审查，审查员；删改 | |
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33
sagely
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| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
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34
negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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35
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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37
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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38
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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39
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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40
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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41
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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42
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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43
hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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44
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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45
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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46
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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47
goggles
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| n.护目镜 | |
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48
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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49
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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50
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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51
estuary
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| n.河口，江口 | |
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52
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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53
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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54
dykes
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| abbr.diagonal wire cutters 斜线切割机n.堤( dyke的名词复数 )；坝；堰；沟 | |
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55
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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56
brackish
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| adj.混有盐的；咸的 | |
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57
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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58
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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59
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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60
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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61
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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62
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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63
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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64
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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65
enactments
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| n.演出( enactment的名词复数 )；展现；规定；通过 | |
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66
censored
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| 受审查的，被删剪的 | |
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67
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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69
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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70
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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71
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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72
irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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73
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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74
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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75
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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76
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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77
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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78
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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79
refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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80
truculently
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81
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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82
bellicose
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| adj.好战的；好争吵的 | |
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83
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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84
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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85
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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86
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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87
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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88
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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89
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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90
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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91
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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92
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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93
skidded
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| v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的过去式和过去分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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94
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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95
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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96
dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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97
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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98
reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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100
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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101
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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102
imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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103
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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104
mesh
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| n.网孔，网丝，陷阱；vt.以网捕捉，啮合，匹配；vi.适合； [计算机]网络 | |
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105
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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106
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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