CHAPTER XI

The little clock on Dacent Smith's mantelshelf chimed the hour of seven.

"I am as empty as a drum," exclaimed Captain X. His slender figure occupied one of the Chief's deep armchairs. He was smoking one of Smith's cigarettes, and his handsome face and audacious-looking eyes were upturned as he watched the smoke ascend. "How long have we been here, Treves?" he inquired.

"Three hours," answered John. He too occupied one of Dacent Smith's deep chairs and smoked his Chief's cigarettes.

"What about asking old Grew if he knows anything," continued Captain X----. He leaned over and pressed his thumb upon the electric bell push. Almost immediately, and quite noiselessly, the door opened and Dacent Smith's big-boned manservant came into the room.

"Look here, Grew," said the Captain, twisting his head to get a view of the tall servant. "When do you think the War Council will break up?"

"I couldn't say, sir," answered Grew, looking at him with a wooden expression.

"You mean if you could, you wouldn't," returned the Captain. "But I would like to tell you, Grew, that both of us are most devilish hungry. Can you tell us anything about food?"

"I have orders to serve dinner at 7.30," answered Grew.

For three hours John and his companion, acting upon orders, had been waiting in Dacent Smith's room. The Chief had been called suddenly to a meeting of the War Council, and had not returned.

"I expect there are big things afoot," observed John, glancing at the other.

"It's a bit unusual," answered the Captain, "for him to stay so long. Perhaps he has ferreted out something new, and is communicating what he knows to the mighty ones."

He suddenly turned and looked close at John.

"How do you like our sort of work, Treves?"

"There is nothing to beat it," John answered. "My only trouble is that I am apt to lose my temper. Somehow I cannot stomach spies, but traitors always make me see red."

The Captain looked at him with smiling eyes.

"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. The Chief would never trust me there. She is too beautiful by far, eh, Treves?"

John agreed that Mrs. Monmouth's beauty was undeniable.

"In my opinion," went on John's companion, "the Department ought to put her out of harm's way. But the Chief knows better. He has ordered supervision of all the letters she posts, and she posts a good many."

The door opened at that moment and Dacent Smith himself came hurriedly in. He apologised politely for his absence. The fact that he was head of a great department, that he was indeed a great man, never weighed with him in regard to his subordinates. Socially he treated them all as his equals; only in matters of discipline was he superior. He laughed as he looked at his depleted cigarette-box, and then seated himself at his desk.

With a brisk movement he switched on the light.

"I have had three hours of the War Council," he said, speaking to both Treves and the Captain. "Now, Treves, what is the news?"

John told him that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth was in communication with a person whose name was unknown to him; this person was evidently of great importance to the German secret service, and was considering the employment of John in a great undertaking.

"Who is the great unknown?" inquired Dacent Smith.

"I don't know, sir," John admitted.

The elder man tightened his lips.

"Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's acquaintances are becoming increasingly interesting to us, eh, Treves?"

"I believe so, sir," said John.

"We have been a little late in supervising her letters," said Dacent Smith, looking across at Captain X. "However," he said suddenly, turning the conversation, "that is a matter outside Treves's duties. I have other and more important work for both of you. This afternoon," he went on, "I have submitted a number of reports to the War Council, showing that certain of our defences are in a sensitive condition. Something is occurring, and news is leaking out at a serious rate." He was speaking particularly to John. But it was evident that he wished Captain X. to listen to the conversation. "There is a leakage of news from certain fortified zones on the South Coast. In the case of some of the lesser forts it matters not a brass farthing what the enemy discovers, but at other places--well," he continued, "it has been decided this afternoon that a department is to direct its special attention to the South Coast. Both of you gentlemen will resume uniform almost at once. You will like that, eh, Treves?"

"Very much indeed, sir."

"The War Council," went on Dacent Smith, "was inclined to treat my fears a little lightly, but I am sure I am right. There are secret operations preparing against us on the South Coast, which are of a greater magnitude than anything that has yet been attempted by German espionage. I want you"--he suddenly rose and took John's hand in his--"I want you, Treves, to put everything into this--all your shrewdness and all your tact. You will need every quality of nerve and mind in the work I am going to entrust to you. And believe me," he said, lowering his voice a little, "matters are very serious indeed. We are out against a secret enemy, who has of late increased his power amazingly. There is some one--a new power--directing German espionage in this country, which is a real menace to us. Up to now we have done very well, but at present, I will quite frankly admit to you, our position is delicate in the extreme. I dislike preaching," he concluded in a lighter tone, "but I think you know what I mean."

John, who had gripped his hand cordially, answered simply, "Yes, sir; I think I appreciate the danger."

The clock on the little mantelshelf chimed the half-hour. Grew knocked at the door.

"Dinner's ready," exclaimed Dacent Smith. "Come this way, and I'll show you how a miserable old bachelor lives."