Von Belke started violently.
“So!” he cried. “Then—then you never were Tiel?”
“I am thankful to say I never was, for a more complete scoundrel never existed. He and his friend Schumann actually did knock Mr. Burnett on the head, tie a stone to his feet, and pitch him over the cliff. Unfortunately for them, they made a bad job of the knot and the stone came loose. In consequence, Mr. Burnett floated long enough to be picked up by a patrol boat, which had seen the whole performance outlined against the sky at the top of the cliff above her. By the time they had brought him back to a certain base, Mr. Burnett had revived and was able to tell of his adventure. The affair being in my line, was put into my hands, and it didn’t take long to see what the rascals’ game was.”
“No,” commented Phipps; “I suppose you spotted that pretty quick.”
“Practically at once. A clergyman on his way here—clothes and passport stolen—left for murdered—chauffeur so like him that the minister noticed the resemblance himself in the instant the man was knocking him down—what was the inference? Pretty obvious, you’ll agree. Well, the first step was simple. The pair had separated; but we got Tiel at Inverness on his way North, and Schumann within twenty-four hours afterwards at Liverpool.”
“Good business!” said Phipps. “I hadn’t heard about Schumann before.”
“Well,” continued Blacklock, “I interviewed Mr. Tiel, and I found I’d struck just about the worst thing in the way of rascals it has ever been my luck to run up against. He began to bargain at once. If his life was spared he would give me certain very valuable information.”
“Mein Gott!” cried Belke. “Did a German actually say that?”
“Tiel belongs to no country,” said Blacklock. “He is a cosmopolitan adventurer without patriotism or morals. I told him his skin would be safe if his information really proved valuable; and when I heard his story, I may say that he did save his skin. He gave the whole show away, down to the passwords that were to pass between you when you met.”
He suddenly turned to Phipps and smiled.
“It’s curious how the idea came to me. I’ve done a good bit of secret service work myself, and felt in such a funk sometimes that I’ve realised the temptation to give the show away if I were nailed. Well, as I looked at Tiel, I said to myself, ‘There, but for the grace of God, stands Robin Blacklock!’ And then suddenly it flashed into my mind that we were really not at all unlike one another—same height, and tin-opener nose, and a few streaks of anno domini in our hair, and so on.”
“I know, old thing,” said his friend, “it’s the wife-poisoning type. You see ’em by the dozen in the Chamber of Horrors.”
Their Teutonic captive seemed to wax a little impatient.
“What happened then?” he demanded.
“What happened was that I decided to continue Mr. Tiel’s journey for him. The arrest and so on had lost a day, but I knew that the night of your arrival was left open, and I had to risk it. That splash of salt water on your motor bike, and your resource in dodging pursuit, just saved the situation, and we arrived at the house on the same night.”
“So that was why you were late!” exclaimed von Belke. “Fool that I was not to have questioned and suspected!”
“It might have been rather a nasty bunker,” admitted Blacklock, “but luckily I got you to lose your temper with me when I reached that delicate part of my story, and you forgot to ask me.”
“You always were a tactful fellow, Robin,” murmured Phipps.
“Of course,” resumed Blacklock, “I was in touch with certain people who advised me what scheme to recommend. My only suggestion was that the officer sent to advise us professionally should be one whose appearance might lead those who did not know him to suspect him capable of treasonable inclinations. My old friend, Captain Phipps—”
“Robin!” roared his old friend, “I read your bloomin’ message. You asked for the best-looking officer on the staff, and the one with the nicest manners. Get on with your story!”
These interludes seemed to perplex their captive considerably.
“You got a pretended traitor? I see,” he said gravely.
“Exactly. I tried you first with Ashington of the Haileybury—whom I slandered grossly by the way. If you had happened to know him by sight I should have passed on to another captain, till I got one you didn’t know. Well, I needn’t recall what happened at our council of war, but now we come to rather a—” he hesitated and glanced for an instant at Miss Holland—“well, rather a delicate point in the story. I think it’s only fair to those concerned to tell you pretty fully what happened. I believe I am right in thinking that they would like me to do so.”
Again he glanced at the girl, and this time she gave a little assenting nod.
“That night, after you left us, Mr. Belke, Captain Phipps and I had a long discussion over a very knotty point. How were we to get you back again here after you had delivered your message to your submarine?”
“I do not see exactly why you wished me to return?” said von Belke.
“There were at least three vital reasons, In the first place someone you spoke to might have known too much about Tiel and have spotted the fraud. Then again, someone might easily have known the real Captain Ashington, and it would be a little difficult to describe Captain Phipps in such a way as to confound him with anyone else. Finally, we wished to extract a little more information from you.”
Von Belke leapt from his seat with an exclamation.
“What have I not told you!” he cried hoarsely. “Mein Gott, I had forgotten that! Give me that pistol! Come, give
