Suddenly the young German broke out.
“Ah! But were there not consolations?”
“What do you mean?”
“You and Miss Holland living by yourselves in this house—is it that you need apologise for?”
“Miss Holland never spent a single night under this roof,” said Blacklock quietly.
“Not—not a night,” stammered von Belke. “Then where—?”
“She stayed at a house in the neighbourhood.”
The lieutenant seemed incapable of comment, and Captain Phipps observed genially,
“There seem to have been some rum goings-on behind your back, Mr. Belke!”
Von Belke seemed to be realising this fact himself, and resenting it.
“You seem to have amused yourself very much by deceiving me,” he remarked.
“I assure you I did nothing for fun,” said Blacklock gravely, yet with a twinkle in his eye. “It was all in the way of business.”
“The story that you preached, for instance!”
“Would you have felt quite happy if I had told you I had omitted to do the one thing I had professed to come here for?”
Von Belke gave a little sound that might have meant anything. Then he exclaimed—
“But your servant who was not supposed to know anything—that was to annoy me, I suppose!”
“To isolate you. I didn’t want you to speak to a soul but me.”
The captive sat silent for a moment, and then said—
“You had the house watched by the police—I see that now.”
“A compliment to you, Mr. Belke,” smiled the Commander; and then he added, “You gave me one or two anxious moments, I may tell you. Your demand for mufti necessitated a very hurried interview with the commander of a destroyer, and old Craigie’s visit very nearly upset the applecart. I had to tell him pretty nearly the whole truth when I got him outside. But those incidents came after the chief crisis was over. The nearest squeak was when I thought you were safely engaged with Miss Holland, and a certain officer was calling on me, who was not Captain Phipps. In fact, he was an even more exalted person. Miss Holland saved the situation by crying out that you were coming, or I’m afraid that would have been the end of the submarine attack.”
“So?” said the young German slowly and with a very wry face, and then he turned to Eileen. “Then, Miss Holland, every time you did me the honour to appear kind and visit me you were carrying out one of this gentleman’s plans? And every word you spoke was said to entangle me in your net, or to keep me quiet while something was being done behind my back? I hope that some day you may enjoy the recollection as much as I am enjoying it now!”
“Mr. Belke,” she cried, “I am very deeply sorry for treating even an enemy as I treated you!”
She spoke so sincerely and with so much emotion that even Captain Phipps assumed a certain solemn expression, which was traditionally never seen on his face except when the Chaplain was actually officiating, and jumping up she came a step towards the prisoner. There she stood, a graceful and beautiful figure, her eyes glowing with fervour.
“All I can say for myself, and all I can ask you to think of when your recollections of me pain you, is only this—if you had a sister, would you have had her hesitate to do one single thing I did in order to defeat her country’s enemies?”
Von Belke looked at her for a moment with frowning brow and folded arms. Then all he said was—
“Germany’s cause is sacred!”
Her eyes opened very wide.
“Then what is right for Germany is wrong for her enemies?”
“Naturally. How can Germany both be right—as she is, and yet be wrong?”
“I—I don’t think you quite understand what I mean,” she said with a puzzled look.
“Germany never will,” said Blacklock quietly. “That is why we are at war.”
A tramp of footsteps sounded on the gravel outside, and Captain Phipps sprang up.
“Your guard has come for you, Mr. Belke,” he said. “I’m sorry to interrupt this conversation, but I’m afraid you must be moving.”
III
The Empty Envelope
Commander Blacklock closed the front door.
“Chilly night,” he observed.
“It is rather,” said Eileen.
The wind droned through a distant keyhole mournfully and continuously. That melancholy piping sound never rose and never fell; monotonous and unvarying it piped on and on. Otherwise the house had that peculiar feeling of quiet which houses have when stirring events are over and people have departed.
The two remaining inhabitants reentered the parlour, glanced at one another with a half smile, and then seemed simultaneously to find a little difficulty in knowing what to do next.
“Well,” said Blacklock, “our business seems over.”
He felt he had spoken a little more abruptly than he intended, and would have liked to repeat his observations in a more genial tone.
“Yes,” said she almost as casually, “there is nothing more to be done tonight, I suppose.”
“I shall have to write up my report of our friend Mr. Belke’s life and last words,” said he with a half laugh.
“And I have got to get over to Mrs. Brown’s,” she replied, “and so I had better go at once.”
“Oh, there’s no such desperate hurry,” he said hastily; “I haven’t much to write up tonight. We must have some supper first.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “I suppose we shall begin to feel hungry soon if we don’t. I’ll see about it. What would you like?”
“The cold ham and a couple of boiled eggs will suit me.”
She agreed again.
“That won’t take long, and then you can begin your report.”
Again he protested
