第 12 页

had not been cleaned for the better part of a month. I made a fine

tramp and a fair drover; and here I was ushered by a prim butler

into this temple of gracious ease. And the best of it was that they

did not even know my name.

I resolved not to puzzle my head but to take the gifts the gods

had provided. I shaved and bathed luxuriously, and got into the

dress clothes and clean crackling shirt, which fitted me not so

badly. By the time I had finished the looking-glass showed a not

unpersonable young man.

Sir Walter awaited me in a dusky dining-room where a little

round table was lit with silver candles. The sight of him - so

respectable and established and secure, the embodiment of law and

government and all the conventions - took me aback and made me

feel an interloper. He couldn't know the truth about me, or he

wouldn't treat me like this. I simply could not accept his hospitality

on false pretences.

'I'm more obliged to you than I can say, but I'm bound to make

things clear,' I said. 'I'm an innocent man, but I'm wanted by the

police. I've got to tell you this, and I won't be surprised if you kick

me out.'

He smiled. 'That's all right. Don't let that interfere with your

appetite. We can talk about these things after dinner.'

I never ate a meal with greater relish, for I had had nothing all

day but railway sandwiches. Sir Walter did me proud, for we drank

a good champagne and had some uncommon fine port afterwards.

it made me almost hysterical to be sitting there, waited on by a

footman and a sleek butler, and remember that I had been living

for three weeks like a brigand, with every man's hand against me. I

told Sir Walter about tiger-fish in the Zambesi that bite off your

fingers if you give them a chance, and we discussed sport up and

down the globe, for he had hunted a bit in his day.

We went to his study for coffee, a jolly room full of books and

trophies and untidiness and comfort. I made up my mind that if

ever I got rid of this business and had a house of my own, I would

create just such a room. Then when the coffee-cups were cleared

away, and we had got our cigars alight, my host swung his long

legs over the side of his chair and bade me get started with my yarn.

'I've obeyed Harry's instructions,' he said, 'and the bribe he

offered me was that you would tell me something to wake me up.

I'm ready, Mr Hannay.'

I noticed with a start that he called me by my proper name.

I began at the very beginning. I told of my boredom in London,

and the night I had come back to find Scudder gibbering on my

doorstep. I told him all Scudder had told me about Karolides and

the Foreign Office conference, and that made him purse his lips and grin.

Then I got to the murder, and he grew solemn again. He heard

all about the milkman and my time in Galloway, and my deciphering

Scudder's notes at the inn.

'You've got them here?' he asked sharply, and drew a long

breath when I whipped the little book from my pocket.

I said nothing of the contents. Then I described my meeting

with Sir Harry, and the speeches at the hall. At that he laughed

uproariously.

'Harry talked dashed nonsense, did he? I quite believe it. He's as

good a chap as ever breathed, but his idiot of an uncle has stuffed

his head with maggots. Go on, Mr Hannay.'

My day as roadman excited him a bit. He made me describe the

two fellows in the car very closely, and seemed to be raking back in

his memory. He grew merry again when he heard of the fate of that

ass jopley.

But the old man in the moorland house solemnized him. Again I

had to describe every detail of his appearance.

'Bland and bald-headed and hooded his eyes like a bird ... He

sounds a sinister wild-fowl! And you dynamited his hermitage,

after he had saved you from the police. Spirited piece of work, that!'

Presently I reached the end of my wanderings. He got up slowly,

and looked down at me from the hearth-rug.

'You may dismiss the police from your mind,' he said. 'You're in

no danger from the law of this land.'

'Great Scot!' I cried. 'Have they got the murderer?'

'No. But for the last fortnight they have dropped you from the

list of possibles.'

'Why?' I asked in amazement.

'Principally because I received a letter from Scudder. I knew

something of the man, and he did several jobs for me. He was half

crank, half genius, but he was wholly honest. The trouble about

him was his partiality for playing a lone hand. That made him

pretty well useless in any Secret Service - a pity, for he had uncommon

gifts. I think he was the bravest man in the world, for he was

always shivering with fright, and yet nothing would choke him off.

I had a letter from him on the 31st of May.'

'But he had been dead a week by then.'

'The letter was written and posted on the 23rd. He evidently did

not anticipate an immediate decease. His communications usually

took a week to reach me, for they were sent under cover to Spain

and then to Newcastle. He had a mania, you know, for concealing

his tracks.'

'What did he say?' I stammered.

'Nothing. Merely that he was in danger, but had found shelter

with a good friend, and that I would hear from him before the 15th

of June. He gave me no address, but said he was living near

Portland Place. I think his object was to clear you if anything

happened. When I got it I went to Scotland Yard, went over the

details of the inquest, and concluded that you were the friend. We

made inquiries about you, Mr Hannay, and found you were respectable.

I thought I knew the motives for your disappearance - not

only the police, the other one too - and when I got Harry's scrawl I

guessed at the rest. I have been expecting you any time this past week.'

You can imagine what a load this took off my mind. I felt a free

man once more, for I was now up against my country's enemies

only, and not my country's law.

'Now let us have the little note-book,' said Sir Walter.

It took us a good hour to work through it. I explained the

cypher, and he was jolly quick at picking it up. He emended my

reading of it on several points, but I had been fairly correct, on the

whole. His face was very grave before he had finished, and he sat

silent for a while.

'I don't know what to make of it,' he said at last. 'He is right

about one thing - what is going to happen the day after tomorrow.

How the devil can it have got known? That is ugly enough in itself.

But all this about war and the Black Stone - it reads like some wild

melodrama. If only I had more confidence in Scudder's judgement.

The trouble about him was that he was too romantic. He had the

artistic temperament, and wanted a story to be better than God

meant it to be. He had a lot of odd biases, too. Jews, for example,

made him see red. Jews and the high finance.

'The Black Stone,' he repeated. 'DER SCHWARZE STEIN. It's like a

penny novelette. And all this stuff about Karolides. That is the

weak part of the tale, for I happen to know that the virtuous

Karolides is likely to outlast us both. There is no State in Europe

that wants him gone. Besides, he has just been playing up to Berlin

and Vienna and giving my Chief some uneasy moments. No! Scudder has

gone off the track there. Frankly, Hannay, I don't believe that part of

his story. There's some nasty business afoot, and he found out too much

and lost his life over it. But I am ready to take my oath that it is

ordinary spy work. A certain great European Power makes a hobby of her

spy system, and her methods are not too particular. Since she pays by

piecework her blackguards are not likely to stick at a murder or two.

They want our naval dispositions for their collection at the Marineamt;

but they will be pigeon-holed - nothing more.'

just then the butler entered the room.

'There's a trunk-call from London, Sir Walter. It's Mr 'Eath, and

he wants to speak to you personally.'

My host went off to the telephone.

He returned in five minutes with a whitish face. 'I apologize to

the shade of Scudder,' he said. 'Karolides was shot dead this evening

at a few minutes after seven.'

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Coming of the Black Stone

I came down to breakfast next morning, after eight hours of blessed

dreamless sleep, to find Sir Walter decoding a telegram in the midst

of muffins and marmalade. His fresh rosiness of yesterday seemed a

thought tarnished.

'I had a busy hour on the telephone after you went to bed,' he

said. 'I got my Chief to speak to the First Lord and the Secretary

for War, and they are bringing Royer over a day sooner. This wire

clinches it. He will be in London at five. Odd that the code word

for a SOUS-CHEF D/ETAT MAJOR-GENERAL should be "Porker".'

He directed me to the hot dishes and went on.

'Not that I think it will do much good. If your friends were

clever enough to find out the first arrangement they are clever

enough to discover the change. I would give my head to know

where the leak is. We believed there were only five men in England

who knew about Royer's visit, and you may be certain there were

fewer in France, for they manage these things better there.'

While I ate he continued to talk, making me to my surprise a

present of his full confidence.

'Can the dispositions not be changed?' I asked.

'They could,' he said. 'But we want to avoid that if possible.

They are the result of immense thought, and no alteration would be

as good. Besides, on one or two points change is simply impossible.

Still, something could be done, I suppose, if it were absolutely

necessary. But you see the difficulty, Hannay. Our enemies are not

going to be such fools as to pick Royer's pocket or any childish

game like that. They know that would mean a row and put us on

our guard. Their aim is to get the details without any one of us

knowing, so that Royer will go back to Paris in the belief that the

whole business is still deadly secret. If they can't do that they fail,

for, once we suspect, they know that the whole thing must be altered.'

'Then we must stick by the Frenchman's side till he is home

again,' I said. 'If they thought they could get the information in

Paris they would try there. It means that they have some deep

scheme on foot in London which they reckon is going to win out.'

'Royer dines with my Chief, and then comes to my house where

four people will see him - Whittaker from the Admiralty, myself,

Sir Arthur Drew, and General Winstanley. The First Lord is ill,

and has gone to Sheringham. At my house he will get a certain

document from Whittaker, and after that he will be motored to

Portsmouth where a destroyer will take him to Havre. His journey

is too important for the ordinary boat-train. He will never be left

unattended for a moment till he is safe on French soil. The same

with Whittaker till he meets Royer. That is the best we can do, and

it's hard to see how there can be any miscarriage. But I don't mind

admitting that I'm horribly nervous. This murder of Karolides will

play the deuce in the chancelleries of Europe.'

After breakfast he asked me if I could drive a car.

'Well, you'll be my chauffeur today and wear Hudson's rig.

You're about his size. You have a hand in this business and we are

taking no risks. There are desperate men against us, who will not

respect the country retreat of an overworked official.'

When I first came to London I had bought a car and amused

myself with running about the south of England, so I knew something

of the geography. I took Sir Walter to town by the Bath

Road and made good going. It was a soft breathless June morning,

with a promise of sultriness later, but it was delicious enough

swinging through the little towns with their freshly watered streets,

and past the summer gardens of the Thames valley. I landed Sir

Walter at his house in Queen Anne's Gate punctually by half-past

eleven. The butler was coming up by train with the luggage.

The first thing he did was to take me round to Scotland Yard.

There we saw a prim gentleman, with a clean-shaven, lawyer's face.

'I've brought you the Portland Place murderer,' was Sir Walter's

introduction.

The reply was a wry smile. 'It would have been a welcome

present, Bullivant. This, I presume, is Mr Richard Hannay, who for

some days greatly interested my department.'

'Mr Hannay will interest it again. He has much to tell you, but

not today. For certain grave reasons his tale must wait for

four hours. Then, I can promise you, you will be entertained and

possibly edified. I want you to assure Mr Hannay that he will suffer

no further inconvenience.'

This assurance was promptly given. 'You can take up your life

where you left off,' I was told. 'Your flat, which probably you no

longer wish to occupy, is waiting for you, and your man is still

there. As you were never publicly accused, we considered that there

was no need of a public exculpation. But on that, of course, you

must please yourself.'

'We may want your assistance later on, MacGillivray,' Sir Walter

said as we left.

Then he turned me loose.

'Come and see me tomorrow, Hannay. I needn't tell you to keep

deadly quiet. If I were you I would go to bed, for you must have

considerable arrears of sleep to overtake. You had better lie low,

for if one of your Black Stone friends saw you there might be trouble.'

I felt curiously at a loose end. At first it was very pleasant to be a