Next instant the blackness of unconsciousness fell upon me.
When I recovered I was amazed to find myself in bed, with the yellow wintry sunlight streaming into the low, old-fashioned room. For some time--how long I know not--I lay there staring at the diamond-paned window straight before me, vaguely wondering what had occurred.
A sound at last struck the right chord of my memory--the sound of my host"s voice exclaiming cheerily:
"How do you feel, old chap? Better, I hope, after your long sleep. Do you know it"s nearly two o"clock in the afternoon?"
Two o"clock!
After a struggle I succeeded in sitting up in bed.
"What occurred?" I managed to gasp. "I--I don"t exactly remember."
"Why nothing, my dear fellow," declared my friend, laughing. "You were a bit tired last night, that"s all. So I thought I wouldn"t disturb you."
"Where"s Bennett?"
"Downstairs with the car, waiting till you feel quite right again."
I then realised for the first time that I was still dressed. Only my boots and collar and tie had been removed.
Much puzzled, and wondering whether it were actually possible that I had taken too much wine, I rose to my feet and slowly a.s.sumed my boots.
Was the man standing before me a friend, or was he an enemy?
I recollected most distinctly sampling the brandy, but beyond that--absolutely nothing.
At my host"s orders Henry brought me up a refreshing cup of tea and after a quarter of an hour or so, during which Sandford declared that "such little annoying incidents occur in the life of every man," I descended and found Bennett waiting with the car before the door.
As I grasped my host"s hand in farewell he whispered confidentially.
"Let"s say nothing about it in future. I"ll call and see you in town in a week or two--if I may."
Mechanically I declared that I should be delighted, and mounting into the car we glided down the drive to the road.
My brain was awhirl, and I was in no mood to talk. Therefore I sat with the frosty air blowing upon my fevered brow as we travelled back to Colchester.
"I didn"t know you intended staying the night, sir," Bennett ventured to remark just before we entered the town.
"I didn"t, Bennett."
"But you sent word to me soon after we arrived, telling me to return at noon to-day. So I went back to "The Cups," and spent all this morning on the engines."
"Who gave you that message?" I asked quickly.
"Mr. Sandford"s man, Henry."
I sat in silence. What could it mean? What mystery was there?
As an abstemious man I felt quite convinced that I had not taken too much wine. A single liqueur-gla.s.s of brandy certainly could never have produced such an effect upon me. And strangely enough that girl"s face, so shadowy, so sweet, and yet so distorted by horror, was ever before me.
Three weeks after the curious incident, having concluded my survey, I found myself back in Guilford Street, my journey at last ended.
Pleasant, indeed, it was to sit again at one"s own fireside after those wet, never-ending muddy roads upon which I had lived for so long, and very soon I settled down to arrange the ma.s.s of material I had collected and write my book.
A few days after my return, in order to redeem my promise and to learn more of Charles Sandford, I called at the address of the queer old hump-backed widow in Earl"s Court Road.
To my surprise, I found the house in question empty, with every evidence of its having been to let for a year or more. There was no mistake in the number; it was printed upon her card. This discovery caused me increasing wonder.
What did it all mean?
Through many weeks I sat in my rooms in Bloomsbury constantly at work upon my book. The technicalities were many and the difficulties not a few. One of the latter--and perhaps the chief one--was to so disguise the real vulnerable points of our country which I had discovered on my tour with military experts as to mislead the Germans, who might seek to make use of the information I conveyed. The book, to be of value, had, I recognised, to be correct in detail, yet at the same time it must suppress all facts that might be of use to a foreign Power.
The incident near Colchester had nearly pa.s.sed from my mind, when one night in February, 1909, I chanced to be having supper with Ray Raymond and Vera at the "Carlton," when at the table on the opposite side of the big room sat a smart, dark-haired young man with a pretty girl in turquoise-blue.
As I looked across, our eyes met. In an instant I recollected that I had seen that countenance somewhere before. Yes. It was actually the face of that nightmare of mine after sampling Sandford"s old cognac! I sat there staring at her, like a man in a dream. The countenance was the sweetest and most perfect I had ever gazed upon. Yet why had I seen it in my unconsciousness?
I noticed that she started. Then, turning her head, she leaned over and whispered something to her companion. Next moment, pulling her cloak about her shoulders, she rose, and they both left hurriedly.
What could her fear imply? Why was she in such terror of me? That look of horror which I had seen on that memorable night was again there--yet only for one single second.
My impulse was to rise and dash after the pair. Yet, not being acquainted with her, I should only, by so doing, make a fool of myself and also annoy my lady friend.
And so for many days and many weeks the remembrance of that sweet and dainty figure ever haunted me. I took a holiday, spending greater part of the time on a friend"s yacht in the Norwegian fjords. Yet I could not get away from that face and the curious mystery attaching to it.
On my return home, I was next day rung up on the telephone by my friend Major Carmichael, of the Intelligence Department of the War Office, who had been one of my a.s.sistants in preparing the forthcoming book. At his urgent request I went round to see him in Whitehall, and on being ushered into his office, I was introduced to a tall, dark-bearded man, whose name I understood to be Shayler.
"My dear Jac.o.x," exclaimed the Major, "forgive me for getting you here in order to cross-examine you, but both Shayler and myself are eagerly in search of some information. You recollect those maps of yours, marked with all sorts of confidential memoranda relating to the East Coast--facts that would be of the utmost value to the German War Office--what did you do with them?"
"I deposited them here. I suppose they"re still here," was my reply.
"Yes. But you"ll recollect my warning long ago, when you were reconnoitring. Did you ever allow them to pa.s.s out of your hands?"
"Never. I carried them in my portfolio, the key of which was always on my chain."
"Then what do you think of these?" he asked, walking to a side table where lay a pile of twenty or thirty gla.s.s photographic negatives. And taking up one of them, he handed it to me.
It was a photograph of one of my own maps! The plan was the section of country in the vicinity of Glasgow. Upon it I saw notes in my own handwriting, the tracing of the telegraph wires with the communications of each wire, and dozens of other facts of supreme importance to the invader.
"Great heavens!" I gasped. "Where did you get that?"
"Shayler will tell you, my dear fellow!" answered the Major. "It seems that you"ve been guilty of some sad indiscretion."
"I am attached to the Special Department at New Scotland Yard,"
explained the dark-bearded man. "Two months ago a member of the secret service in the employ of our Foreign Office made a report from Berlin that a young girl, named Gertie Drew, living in a Bloomsbury boarding-house, had approached the German military attache offering, for three thousand pounds, to supply him with photographs of a number of confidential plans of our eastern counties and of the Clyde defences.
The attache had reported to the War Office in Berlin, hence the knowledge obtained by the British secret agent. The matter was at once placed in my hands, and since that time I have kept careful observation upon the girl--who has been a photographer"s a.s.sistant--and those in a.s.sociation with her. The result is that I have fortunately managed to obtain possession of these negatives of your annotated plans."
"But how?" I demanded.