The days went past, but nothing suspicious occurred until one night Cole, who was again living at the temperance hotel, joined the munition-workers" train, being followed by Ella, who found that he had been engaged as an electrician in the power-house.
Next day he met the thin-faced young woman, who was known to her fellow-workers as Kate Dexter, and they spent several hours together, at lunch and afterwards at a picture-house. But, friends as they were, when they left the Central Station they took care never to travel in the same carriage. So, to their fellow-workers, they were strangers.
One afternoon, at half-past two, Kennedy, who was at the Central Hotel, called at Ella"s lodgings and explained how he had seen her father walking in the street with Cole.
"I afterwards followed them," he added, "and eventually found that your father is at the Grand Hotel."
"Then mischief is certainly intended," declared the girl, her cheeks turning pale.
"No doubt. They mean to execute the plot without any further delay.
That"s my opinion. It will require all our watchfulness and resource if we are to be successful."
"Why not warn the police?" suggested the girl.
"And, by doing so, you would most certainly send your father to a long term of penal servitude," was her lover"s reply. "No. We must prevent it, and for your own sake allow your father a loophole for escape, though he certainly deserves none."
Ella had once travelled in the same train as the woman Dexter, but the latter had not recognised her; nevertheless, from inquiries Kennedy had made in London, it seemed that a month before the woman had been living in London, and was a close friend of Cole"s. She had only recently gone north to work on munitions, and had, like Ella, been instructed in the working of the electrical cranes.
For three days Theodore Drost remained at the Grand Hotel, where he had several interviews with the electrician Cole, and while Ella kept out of the way by day and went to the works at night, her lover very cleverly managed to maintain a strict watch.
More than once Ella had contrived to pa.s.s the door of the great power-station with its humming dynamos which gave movement to that huge ma.s.s of machinery in the three factories turning out munitions, and had seen the man Cole in his blue dungarees busily oiling the machinery.
Once she had watched him using thick machine-oil from cans exactly similar to those she had seen stored beneath the table in her father"s laboratory.
Night after night Ella, working there aloft in her crane, waited and wondered. Indeed, she never knew from hour to hour whether the carefully laid plans of the conspirators might not result in some disastrous explosion, in which she herself might be a victim.
But Kennedy rea.s.sured her that he was keeping an ever-watchful vigil, and she trusted him implicitly. As a matter of fact, one of the London detectives watching the place was a friend of his, and, without telling him the exact object of his visit, he was able to gain entrance to the works.
Naturally the detective became curious, but Kennedy, who usually wore an old tweed suit and a seedy cap, promised to reveal all to him afterwards.
About half-past one, on a wet morning, Ella had just stopped her crane when, at the entrance end of the building, she caught a glimpse of some one beckoning to her. It was her well-beloved. In a few moments she had clambered down, and, hurrying through the factory, joined him outside.
"Did you travel with that woman Dexter to-night?" he inquired eagerly in a low whisper as they stood in the darkness.
"Yes."
"Did she carry her attache-case?"
"Yes. She always does."
"She did not have it when she went home yesterday morning, for she left it here--the case which your father prepared," he said. "She brought the second of the cases with her to-night."
"Then both are here!" exclaimed Ella in excitement.
"Both are now in the power-house. I saw her hand over the second one to Cole only a quarter of an hour ago. Let us watch."
Then the pair crept on beneath the dark shadows through the rain to the great square building of red-brick which, constructed six months before, contained some of the finest and most up-to-date electrical plant in all the world.
At last they gained the door, which stood slightly ajar. The other mechanics were all away in the canteen having their early morning meal, and the man Cole, outwardly an honest-looking workman, remained there in charge.
Together they watched the man"s movements.
Presently he came to the door, opened it, and looked eagerly out. In the meantime, however, Kennedy and his companion had slipped round the corner, and were therefore out of view. Then, returning within, Cole went to a cupboard, and as they watched from their previous point of vantage they saw him unlock it, displaying the two little leather attache-cases within.
Close to the huge main dynamo in the centre of the building there stood on the concrete floor six cans of lubricating-oil which, it was proved afterwards, were usually kept at that spot, and therefore were in no way conspicuous.
Swiftly the man Cole drew a coil of fine wire from the cupboard, the ends being joined to the two attache-cases--so that if the mechanism of one failed, the other would act--and with quick, nimble fingers he joined the wire to that already attached to the six inoffensive-looking cans of "oil."
The preparations did not occupy more than a minute. Then, seizing a can of petrol, he placed it beside the cans of high-explosive, in order to add fire to the explosion.
Afterwards, with a final look at the wires, and putting his head into the cupboard, where he listened to make certain that the clockwork mechanism was in motion, he glanced at the big clock above. Then, in fear lest he should be caught there, he ran wildly out into the darkness ere they were aware of his intention.
"Quick!" shouted Kennedy. "Rush and break those wires, Ella! I"ll watch him!"
Without a second"s hesitation, the girl dashed into the power-house and frantically tore the wires from the cupboard and from the fastenings to the deadly attache-cases, and--as it was afterwards proved--only just in time to save herself, the building, and its ma.s.s of machinery from total destruction.
Meanwhile, Kennedy had overtaken the man Cole, and closed desperately with him, both of them rolling into the mud.
Just as Ella was running towards them a pistol-shot rang out.
The fellow had drawn a revolver and in desperation had tried to shoot his captor, but instead, in Kennedy"s strong grip, his hand was turned towards himself, and the bullet had struck his own face, entering his brain.
In a few seconds the man Cole lay there dead.
Was it any wonder that the Press made no mention of the affair?
CHAPTER SIX.
THE SILENT DEATH.
In the yellow sunshine of a bright and cloudless autumn afternoon, Ella Drost descended from her motor-cycle at a remote spot where four roads crossed at a place called Pittsgate, about a mile and a half out from Goudhurst, in Kent, having travelled from London by way of Tunbridge Wells.
In leather cap, leggings, mackintosh, and leather belt she presented a charming type of the healthy English sports-girl. Indeed, in that very garb one could buy picture postcards of her all over the kingdom, those who purchased them little dreaming that Stella Steele, who had for so many nights been applauded by the khaki crowds in the theatre, where she merrily danced in the revue "Half a Moment!" was the daughter of old Theodore Drost, the sworn enemy of Great Britain, the man who had for so long succeeded in misleading the alien authorities into the belief that he was a pious pastor of the Dutch Church.
Certainly the man who posed as an ex-missionary from Sumatra, and who wore the shabby, broad-brimmed clerical hat and horn-rimmed gla.s.ses, had never once been suspected of treasonable acts, save by his daughter Ella and Seymour Kennedy.
It was to meet Kennedy that Ella had motored down from London that day.
The roads were rather bad, and both machine and rider were splashed with mud. Yet for that she cared nothing. Her mind was too full of the investigations upon which they were engaged.
She took out a large scale map, unfolded it, and studied it carefully, apparently tracing a route with her finger. Then glancing at her wristlet-watch, she looked eagerly down the long, straight road upon her left--the road which led up from Eastbourne, through Mayfield and Wadhurst.
n.o.body was in sight, therefore she consoled herself with a cigarette which she took from her case, and again studied her map until, at last, she suddenly heard the pop-pop-pop of a motor-cycle approaching and saw Seymour, his body bent over the handles, coming up the hill at a rattling pace.
In a few minutes he had pulled up, and, taking her in his arms, kissed her fondly, expressing regret if he were late.
"Eastbourne is further off than I expected, darling," he added. "Well?"
he asked eagerly.