CHAPTER XXI

Two evenings later Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's Spanish maid came to the door of her mistress's boudoir, knocked, and entered quietly.

"Doctor Voules is here, madam."

"I told you, Cecily, I was not at home!" said Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. "I don't want to see Doctor Voules--I don't want to see anybody!"

"But, madam," protested the maid, "it would be impossible to refuse to see Doctor Voules!"

Something took place between mistress and maid--an exchange of glances--which seemed somewhat to alter Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's mood of irritation.

"Very well, Cecily, let him come up." And when Cecily had departed to summon Doctor Voules, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth went to her low Turkish table, lit a buff-coloured cigarette, and stood with her back to the hearth, smoking somewhat more rapidly than usual. A knock came at the door, and Doctor Voules entered. He strolled into the apartment with his shoulders well back, his heavy chin thrust forward, the smile that sat so ill upon his harsh face was well in evidence.

"My dear Mrs. Monmouth, my felicitations!"

Mrs. Beecher Monmouth took the gloved hand languidly and turned away.

"Don't felicitate me on anything, Doctor!"

"But the _Malta_!" protested the Doctor. "That was a superb stroke for the Fatherland! It is not often I am lavish of praise."

"You are certainly not a woman's man!" retorted Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, flashing a look at him.

"Your beauty is apparent to me, as it would be to a much younger man, I can assure you of that, my dear _gnaedige Frau_," said Voules.

"I am not talking of beauty--I am talking of moods," replied she. "You observe nothing of my disturbance!"

Doctor Voules, who did not believe in moods, who never permitted such weakness in his subordinates, pressed his lips tightly together.

"You will be good enough, _gnaedige Frau_," he commanded, "to be a little more precise and explicit. Something has occurred, no doubt, to ruffle your temper." He went to a chair at the hearth, seated himself, asked permission to smoke, and lit one of his big, black cigars.

Mrs. Beecher Monmouth looked at him squarely for a moment.

"Of course, my personal sufferings are nothing to you! It is nothing to you, for instance, that my friend, Lady Rachel Marvin, has vanished!"

Doctor Voules lifted his eyebrows.

"In what manner has she vanished?"

"She is one of the most useful friends I have ever had," returned Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "and has suddenly disappeared without leaving me a note or a line."

Doctor Voules drew his brows together.

"Refresh my memory, please, in regard to this lady."

"She is the foolish little chatterbox who provided me with all the information I needed in regard to the _Malta_," retorted Mrs. Beecher Monmouth curtly.

Doctor Voules suddenly became all attention.

"And you mean, _gnaedige Frau_, that this lady has vanished?"

Mrs. Beecher Monmouth assured him of the fact.

"No one knows," she went on, "where she is. She was my most intimate friend. I had put all my hopes in her, Excellenz! Then, to add to my vexation, my husband has been suddenly and unexpectedly appointed to a Government commission of inquiry in Ireland. He is delighted, of course; it is an honour for him. Then, again," went on Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "Mrs. Pomfret Bond, who was in the habit of telling me everything she knew, who was always scraping up bits of gossip that were of use, is----"

"Has she vanished also?" inquired Voules, suddenly rising.

"No," returned Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "but she has become mute as a fish. My opinion is that she has been warned not to talk, and that I have at last become a suspected person!"

Voules looked at her and shook his ponderous head.

"No, no! Your position, _gnaedige Frau_, is too secure for that; also you are too clever."

"I am not a fool," answered Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "but these things disturb me!"

"Your love of the Fatherland, your belief in final victory, will sustain you. You lose your friend, Lady Rachel Marvin, but to a woman of your beauty and position nothing is impossible. You shall get other fools--is it not so? England, _gnaedige Frau_, is full of fools!"

He moved across to her and took her hand firmly in his.

"Soon you shall have your reward. I will promise you my very best efforts. You will wait yet a little while longer. My plans," he added quietly, "are shaping themselves with the perfection of clockwork. Enormous things have been done, my dear _gnaedige Frau_, in the last few weeks, and disaffection now, even from you, would destroy the harmony.... Remember your sentiments towards these people!"

"I remember them well enough!" answered Mrs. Beecher Monmouth. She was still standing at the hearth, and looked steadily before her as she spoke.

"Good!" exclaimed Voules in his throat. "We will now come to the purpose of my visit. You shall have your part in the big work afoot. I assure you there are bigger things than the sinking of the _Malta_! For instance, on the twenty-eighth we shall strike a blow that will not rapidly be forgotten by these English!"

He suddenly snapped his teeth together and drew tight his lips; a gleam of ferocity lit in his hard eyes.

"These English!" he exclaimed between his teeth. "Their arrogance maddens me! It is a torture to me to live among them, concealed thus as a civilian! I am maddened by their complacency!" he went on, "their calm! Nevertheless, we shall strike deep this time! Your work, _gnaedige Frau_," he said, speaking in the tone of masterful authority that was his real habit, "your work is not difficult. On the twenty-fourth I request you to go to Heatherpoint Fort. It is fortunate that your husband is away. You can thus go to the Isle of Wight ostensibly for a holiday. While there you will make the acquaintance of the adjutant of Heatherpoint, who visits regularly the ---- Hotel in Newport. My report is that this young Lieutenant Parkson is susceptible to beauty. You, _gnaedige Frau_," he smiled his hard smile, "are, indeed, beautiful enough to engage the attention of one far less susceptible!"

"What do you wish me to do with this particular susceptible man?" inquired Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, with slight sarcasm.

"You are to engage the young man's attention, and his affections."

"You appear to forget, Excellenz, that I am a married woman of social position!"

"I do not forget, _gnaedige Frau_; but your complaisance on that account will be more than ever flattering. The young man in question will not be able to resist the charms of the beautiful and wealthy society woman who is--to fall in love with him!"

Mrs. Beecher Monmouth smiled, and spoke with a touch of irony.

"I am your servant, Excellenz!"

"You are the servant of the Fatherland," answered Voules gravely, "and all I require is that this young man, Lieutenant Parkson, shall not be at his post in the fort on the night of the twenty-eighth. How you will succeed in keeping him away from duty is a matter for your own discretion--I have the fullest confidence in you. Captain Cherriton undertook the work, but the young man in question neither drinks nor gambles. Cherriton's efforts ended in complete failure. Moreover, our agent inside the fort has been strangely silent of late. We have received neither signal nor message from him for some days. If you play your cards neatly with Parkson, you will possibly secure an invitation to tea at the fort mess."

He went on and gave her a rapid sketch of Steinbaum, otherwise known as "Crumbs." The silence of "Crumbs" during the past few days had puzzled and disturbed him.

"We have made a number of arrangements in regard to Heatherpoint Fort," he concluded, "and it is absolutely essential to our purpose that no guns should be fired from that spot."

His eyes suddenly lit up. He was thinking of his great scheme, which was hourly drawing nearer fruition, and, on parting, he gripped Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's hand in his.

"_Gnaedige Frau_," he announced, "glorious things are shortly to occur!"

When he had gone Mrs. Beecher Monmouth seated herself in a chair and stared thoughtfully into the fire. She was conscious of a sense of doubt and uneasiness. General von Kuhne was a soldier of long training, masterful and aggressive. His gift of organisation, his theory of attack was always excellent--nevertheless, he was not subtle, he was not sensitive to the importance of little incidents. The sudden disappearance of Lady Rachel meant nothing to him, aroused no suspicion in him, and yet...