“Oh, by no means. There was no one for next Sunday, and they were only too glad to have the pulpit filled.”
“But will you risk it?”
He smiled confidently.
“If there is any danger, I shall get warning in plenty of time.”
“To ensure your escape?”
“To vanish somehow.”
“But why should you wait?”
He looked at me seriously and said deliberately—
“I have other schemes in my head—something even bigger. It is too early to talk yet, but it is worth running a little risk for.”
I looked at this astonishing man with unconcealed admiration. Regulations, authorities, precautions, dangers, he seemed to treat as almost negligible. And I had seen how he could contrive and what he could effect.
“I am afraid I shall have to ask you to stay with me for a few days longer,” he added.
I don’t think I ever got a more unpleasant shock.
“You mean you wish me not to rejoin my ship tomorrow night?”
“I know it is asking a great deal of you; but, my dear Belke, duty is duty.”
“My duty is with my ship,” I said quickly. “Besides, it is the post of danger—and of honour. Think of Thursday night!”
“Do you honestly think you are essential to the success of a torpedo attack?”
“Every officer will be required.”
“My dear Belke, you didn’t answer my question. Are you essential?”
“My dear Tiel,” I replied firmly, for I was quite resolved I should not remain cooped up in this infernal house, exposed to hourly risk of being shot as a spy, while my ship was going into action, “I am sorry to seem disobliging; but I am a naval officer, and my first duty is quite clear to me.”
“Pardon me for reminding you that you are at present under my orders,” said he.
“While this affair is being arranged only.”
“But I say that I have not yet finished my arrangements.”
I saw that I was in something of a dilemma, for indeed it was difficult to say exactly how my injunctions met the case.
“Well,” I said, “I shall tell you what I shall do. I shall put it to my superior officer, Commander Wiedermann, and ask him whether he desires me to absent myself any longer.”
This was a happy inspiration, for I felt certain what Wiedermann would say.
“Then I shall not know till tomorrow night whether to count on you—and then I shall very probably lose you?”
I shrugged my shoulders, but said nothing. Suddenly his face cleared.
“My dear fellow,” he said, “I won’t press you. Rejoin your ship if you think it your duty.”
By mutual consent we changed the subject, and discussed the question of submarines versus surface ships, a subject in which Tiel showed both interest and acumen, though I had naturally more knowledge, and could contribute much from my own personal experience. I must add that it is a pleasure to discuss such matters with him, for he has a frank and genuine respect for those who really understand what they are talking about.
Towards evening I went back to my room, and fell to writing this narrative again, but about ten o’clock I had another visit from Tiel; and again he disconcerted me, though not so seriously this time.
“I had a message from Ashington, asking to see me,” he explained, “and I have just returned from a meeting with him. He tells me that the date of the fleet’s sailing will probably be altered to Friday, but he will let me know definitely tomorrow or Tuesday.”
“Or Tuesday!” I exclaimed. “Then I may have to stay here for another night!”
“I’m sorry,” said he, “but I’m afraid it can’t be helped.”
“But can we ever be sure that the fleet will keep to a programme? I have just been thinking it over, and the question struck me—why are they making this arrangement so far ahead?”
“That struck me too,” said Tiel, “and also Ashington. But he has found out now. There is some big scheme on. Some think it is Heligoland, and some think the Baltic. Anyhow, there is a definite programme, and they will certainly keep to it. The only uncertain thing is the actual day of sailing.”
“It is a plan which will be nicely upset if we get our torpedoes into three or four of their super-dreadnoughts!” I exclaimed.
He nodded grimly.
“And for that, we want to have the timing exact,” he said. “Be patient, my friend; we shall know by Tuesday morning at the latest.”
I tried to be as philosophical as I could, but it was a dreary evening, with the rain still beating on my window and another day’s confinement to look forward to.
V
A Mysterious Adventure
Monday morning broke wet and windy, but with every sign of clearing up. Tiel looked in for a very few minutes, but he was in his most uncommunicative mood, and merely told me that he would have to be out for the first part of the day, but would be back in the afternoon. I could not help suspecting that he was still a little sore over my refusal to remain with him, and was paying me out by this display of secrecy. Such petty affronts to officers from those unfortunate enough to be outside that class are not unknown. I was of course above taking offence, but I admit that it made me feel less anxious to consult his wishes at every turn.
In this humour I wrote for a time, and at last got up and stared impatiently out of the window. It had become quite a fine day, and the prospect of gazing for the greater part of it at a few acres of inland landscape, with that fascinating spectacle to be seen from the front windows, irritated me more and more. And then, to add to my annoyance, I heard “Boom! Boom! Boom!” crashing from the seaward side, and shaking the very foundations of the house. I began to feel emphatically that it was my duty to watch the British fleet at gunnery practice.
Just then two women appeared, walking
