Leaving the cliff footpath, I struck across the country towards Treveen Tor, and went around the base of the hill towards the spot where Mr.

John Liddicoat's house stood.

Had any one asked me the reason for going there, I should have been unable to have given them a satisfactory reply. But in my own heart I was satisfied. I had carefully thought out the whole series of events, linking incident with incident and word with word; and although I had no definite hopes as to the result of my nocturnal journey, I felt sure that by taking it I should at least clear my ground.

Presently I saw the house plainly; it was, as Simpson had said, situated in a lonely spot, and only approached by a lonely lane from the St. Eia side and the footpath by which I had come. The house itself was in complete darkness; not a glimmer of light shone from any of the windows.

I saw that it was surrounded by a garden, perhaps half an acre in extent. This garden was, as far as I could judge, altogether uncultivated. The fence around the garden was low, and scarcely any vegetation hid my view. The district around here was almost treeless.

The land on which the house was built was, in the main, hard to cultivate. I saw, however, that two stunted trees grew at some little distance from the house.

I waited about a quarter of an hour without making any attempt to climb over the fence. I reflected that if my suspicions were correct, I must use every precaution. At the end of a quarter of an hour I crept cautiously over the fence and made my way towards the house.

Still all was dark. I carefully examined the ground around the two stunted trees I have mentioned, and presently I caught sight of something which set my heart beating violently. I was on the point of making a closer examination of what I had already seen, when a ray of light shone from one of the windows and I could hear the sound of voices. Again looking around me eagerly, I saw what looked like a large clump of rhododendron bushes. These offered me not only a hiding-place, but a post of observation. I had scarcely crept between the leaves when the door of John Liddicoat's house opened and two people came out. They were the man and the woman whom I had seen that morning.

Almost at the same time the moon rose behind a distant hill, and a few minutes later the garden was flooded with its silvery light.

"Have you got it all?" It was a woman who spoke.

"Yes, all except ..." and I could not catch the last word.

"You bring it, will you?"

They made their way towards the stunted trees, where they dropped the things they had brought. Then the man left the woman and appeared a little later bearing a light ladder.

I saw the man place his ladder against the tree and mount it, carrying something with him, what it was I could not tell. The moon had now risen high enough to enable me to see more plainly and to show me that the two worked swiftly and dexterously, as though they were accustomed to their work. Presently they had evidently finished, for they stood still and waited for something.

"I do not expect we shall get anything to-night." It was the woman who spoke.

"There is no knowing," replied the man; "besides, we have our orders. It is a calm night, too."

"What time is it?" asked the woman.

"Close on midnight," was the reply. "Anyhow, we must wait here until half-past twelve; if nothing comes by that time we shall hear nothing until to-morrow night. My word, if that fool of a fellow who lives in the hut on the cliff only knew! For my own part, I am not sure he does not suspect."

"What makes you think so?"

"I thought he was very guarded this morning," replied the man, "and I must use every means to make certain; if we bungle this we shall be in a bad way. Anyhow, he is closely watched night and day."

After this there was silence, save that I thought I heard a faint clicking noise. The minutes dragged heavily. It seemed as though nothing were going to happen. The moon rose higher and higher, revealing the outlines of the man and woman still more plainly, and presently I saw that their waiting had been rewarded. There was a clear repet.i.tion of the sounds I had heard previously. Then the woman said, "Have you got it?"

"Yes," replied the man; "we will take it in, and then our work for the night is done."

A few minutes later the man climbed the ladder again; evidently he was detaching something he had placed on the trees.

I waited and watched perhaps for another ten minutes, and then they went back into the house which had remained in darkness all the time.

XXIV

PREPARATION

How I got back to my little hut that night I do not know. I have not a distinct remembrance of any incident on the journey, or of any spot that I pa.s.sed. I was unconscious of all my surroundings; I must have walked two or three miles, being utterly oblivious all the time of where I was.

I felt no sense of weariness, being still upheld by the unnatural strength caused by my excitement. A part of my journey led me to a footpath which skirted the cliff, and for hundreds of yards I walked on the edge of a precipice. But I knew nothing of it.

What I had seen and heard told their own story. My life, which had promised to be so uneventful, proved to be exciting beyond words. I had by some curious chance happened to come upon a spot which was, in some respects, the centre of German operations. What had been a mystery had now become plain to me. The sc.r.a.p of paper I had found in the little cave had made all sorts of things possible. It had led me to John Liddicoat's house; it had enabled me to understand actions which would have otherwise been enshrouded in mystery. Who John Liddicoat and the woman who called herself his sister were was plain--they were German spies. Whether they were English or German I could not tell. Certainly they spoke the English language as though they had been born and reared on the British Isles; but that they were paid agents of the Kaiser there could be no doubt.

I little thought at the time I had paid my visit to the wireless station at M---- that it would have been fraught with such vital import. It seemed to me as though the hand of Providence had guided me there, and had led me to form an acquaintance with the young fellow who had insisted upon teaching me the secrets of wireless telegraphy. What I had learnt offered me boundless opportunities. The little apparatus, which not long before I had regarded as an interesting plaything, became of vital importance. Vast avenues of action opened themselves up before me; by means of this little apparatus which I had found such interest in constructing, I might do very great things. The man Liddicoat, by means of the two stunted trees in his garden, and the apparatus which he had fixed there, had been enabled to receive messages from the enemy. He had been able to learn when new supplies of petrol were to be brought, and when consignments of this same commodity had to be taken to the German submarines.

Nothing could be more cunningly contrived; the little cove was hidden by huge promontories, which rose up almost perpendicularly on the rock-bound coast. The spot was far away from all centres of population, and was such an unlikely place that no suspicion would be attached to it. Liddicoat was an English name, and a name closely a.s.sociated with Cornwall. St. Eia was a little town where visitors often came, and thus he would be able to do his work unhindered and unsuspected. Evidently the Germans in their vast preparations had learned of this cave long before the war and had seen its possibilities; what I had discovered was the outcome of a carefully prepared plan. Of course there was much mystery which I had not yet been able to solve. The part which Father Abraham had played was not yet clear to me, and I found myself hazarding all sorts of conjectures, as to why he had built the hut there and why he had left it. But everything resolved itself into one interpretation--the Germans had foreseen this war, they had conjectured the course it would take. They understood the means which would have to be used, and they had made their preparations carefully, scientifically, and with vast forethought.

But what could I do? Evidently I was suspected. Even now, my house was being watched night and day; Father Abraham knew this, and had warned me to leave it. Unseen enemies might strike me down at any moment. And worse than all, although at that time I was buoyed up by an unnatural strength, I was little better than a dead man. I realized that I was opposed to those who were entirely unscrupulous, and who would allow nothing to stand in the way of the accomplishment of their schemes.

Doubtless, my wise course would be to write an exact description of all I had seen and heard and send it to the Government authorities without delay. If, as I suspected, Liddicoat was a.s.sociated with an unscrupulous set of people, he would not hesitate to end my earthly career. In that case, unless I communicated with the authorities at once, my discoveries would be valueless; and yet with a strange obstinacy I determined that I would not do this. As I have said repeatedly, I was at that time buoyed up by an unnatural strength, and my mind was abnormally active. That is how I account for a determination which, in the light of after events, seems insane. Government authorities would be in an infinitely better position to deal with this combination of circ.u.mstances than I. Not only would they have every facility at their disposal, but they would have a vast knowledge of German methods. I, on the other hand, had but few facilities. I was almost entirely ignorant of the means they were constantly using, and I was alone!

Yet I adhered to my determination with that strange obstinacy which characterizes a man who is in an unnatural condition of mind and body. I vowed that I would see this thing through myself; that I would put together all the pieces of this intricate mosaic and bring the guilty persons to justice; then, when I had done my work, I would present it to the Government.

This and a thousand other thoughts flashed through my mind during my midnight journey from John Liddicoat's house to my little hut. I was conscious of no danger, and I am afraid I was heedless as to who might be watching me. I found myself in my little room without realizing that I had opened the door and entered. Almost like a man in a dream I lit my lamp and threw myself in an armchair. I had no thought of sleep, and my mind was still preternaturally active. Then a sense of my utter helplessness possessed me and a great fear filled my heart. I went to the door, opened it slightly, and listened. It was a wonderful night; the moon sailed in a cloudless sky, and I could see the shimmer of the sea far out from land. No sound reached me save the roll of the waves on the sandy beach; not a breath of wind stirred, not a leaf rustled.

Locking and bolting the door, I drew some paper from a drawer and commenced writing. How long I wrote I do not know, but I did not stop until I had penned a fairly comprehensive precis of what I had seen and heard. Why I did this I cannot tell; I only know that I was driven to it by some force which, to me, was inexplicable. This done, I signed the paper, giving the hour and date when I had written it.

I heard Simpson turning in his bed in the little room close by.

"Simpson," I said, going to him, "are you awake?" He yawned drowsily.

"Simpson, are you awake?" I repeated.

"Yes, sir," he said, starting up. "Is anything the matter, sir? Are you well?"

"Quite well, Simpson."

"Is it time to get up, sir?"

"I--I--what time it is I don't know, Simpson, but it is not time to get up."

He looked at me like one afraid.

"Can I do anything for you, sir?"

"Simpson," I said, "I want you to take this paper and put it away in a place of safety. You must not open it unless something happens to me."

"Happens to you, sir? What can happen to you?"

"I don't know--nothing, most likely. But I am giving this to you in case there should. Don't be alarmed. If nothing happens to me, let it lie in a place of safety, and give it to me when I ask for it, but if anything should happen...."

"Yes, sir," he said eagerly, as I hesitated. "If anything should happen, sir?"