When I returned I showed my treasures to Ray, who at once became excited.
"The fellow is a fixed agent here in Newcastle, no doubt," he declared.
"We must watch him well."
We continued our observations. The spy and Rosser were inseparable. They met each evening, and more than once the whole Rosser family went out to entertainments at Mr. Barker's expense. He would allow the foreman fitter to pay for nothing.
Judicious inquiries at Elswick revealed the fact that Charles Rosser was one of the most skilful fitters in the employ of the firm, and that such was the confidence placed in him, that he was at present engaged in the finishing of the new gun which was to be a triumph of the British Navy--a weapon which was far and away in advance of any possessed by any other nation, or anything ever turned out from Krupp's.
It was ticklish and exciting work, watching the two men and observing the subtle craftiness of the German, who was trying to get the honest Englishman into his power. But in our self-imposed campaign of contra-espionage we had had many stirring adventures, and after all, our life in Newcastle was not unpleasant. Barker was engaged at his office all day, and we were then free. It was only at evening when we were compelled to adopt those hundred and one subterfuges, and whenever the watching was wearisome and chill we always recollected that we were performing a patriotic duty, even though it be silent, unknown, and unrecognised.
One night the pair were together in a bar in Westgate Road, when, from their conversation, it was made very clear to me that Barker had advanced his friend one hundred and seventy-five pounds, and that the deeds of the new house were to be signed next day. Rosser was extremely grateful to his friend. Half the purchase-money was to remain on mortgage--a mortgage made over to Barker himself--just as we had expected.
The men clinked glasses, and it was plain that Rosser had not the least suspicion of the abyss opened before him. There are some men who are entirely unsuspecting, and perhaps the British workman is most of all.
When I reported this to Ray and we had consulted together, we decided that the time was ripe to approach Rosser and expose his generous friend.
It was now quite plain to us that Barker would quickly bring pressure to bear upon the foreman fitter to either supply a drawing and rough specifications of the new gun, or else come face to face with ruin. We had ascertained that, though an honest workman, Rosser only lived upon his weekly wages, and had nothing put by for the support of his wife and four children. The patriotic scruples of a man are not difficult to overcome when he sees his wife and family in danger of starvation.
On the next evening we followed Rosser from his work up to Dilston Road and called at his clean and humble home.
At first he greatly resented our intrusion, and was most indignant at our suggestion that he was about to be made a cat's-paw by the Kaiser's spies.
But on production of the letter, which we deciphered, the plan of the Ridges Waterworks, and our allegations concerning his generous friend, he began to reflect.
"Has he ever asked you about the new gun now being made at Elswick?" I asked.
"Well"--he hesitated--"now I recall the fact, he has on several occasions."
"Ah!" I said. "He intended to either ruin you, Rosser, or compel you to become a traitor."
"He'd never do that!" declared the stout-hearted Briton. "By God! If what you tell me is true," he cried fiercely, "I'll wring the blackguard's neck."
"No," I said, "don't do that. He's paid the purchase money for a new house for you, hasn't he?"
"Yes."
"Then leave him to us. We'll compel him to hand back the mortgage, and your revenge shall be a new house at the expense of the German Government," whereat both Ray and he laughed heartily.
Next night we faced the spy at his own rooms, and on pain of exposure and the police compelled him to hand over the new little villa to his intended victim unconditionally, a fact which caused him the most intense chagrin, and induced him to utter the most fearful threats of vengeance against us.
But we had already had many such threats. So we only laughed at them.
We had, however, the satisfaction of exposing the spy to the firm which employed him, and we were present on the platform of the Central Station when, two days later, having given up his rooms and packed his belongings, he left the Tyne-side for London, evidently to consult his travelling-inspector, "Henry Lewis."
Several months passed. The attempt to obtain details of our new gun had passed completely from my mind.
An inquiry which Ray and I had been actively prosecuting into an attempt to learn the secrets of the "transmitting-room" of our new _Dreadnoughts_ had led me to the south of Germany. I had had a rather exciting experience in Dresden and was now on my way back to London.
"Ah! Your London is such a strange place. So dull, so _triste_--so very damp and foggy," remarked the girl seated in the train before me.
"Not always, mademoiselle," I replied. "You have been there in winter.
You should go in June. In the season it is as pleasant as anywhere else in the world."
"I have no desire to return. And yet----"
"Well?"
"And yet I have decided to go straight on from the Gare du Nord."
"The midday service! I shall cross by that also. We shall be fellow-travellers," I said.
We were together in the night _rapide_ from Berlin to Paris, and had just left the great echoing station of Cologne, with few stops between there and Paris. Day was breaking.
I had met Julie Granier under curious circumstances only a few hours before.
At Berlin, being known to the controller of the Wagon-lit Company, I was at once given a two-berth compartment in the long, dusty sleeping-car, those big carriages in which I so often spent days, and nights too, for the matter of that.
"M'sieur is for Paris?" asked the brown-uniformed conductor as I entered, and after flinging in my traps, I descended, went to the buffet and had a mazagran and cigarette until our departure.
I had not sat there more than five minutes when the conductor, a man with whom I had travelled a dozen times, put his head in at the door, and, seeing me, withdrew. Then, a few moments later, he entered with a tall, dark-haired, good-looking girl, who stood aside as he approached me, cap in hand.
"Excuse me, m'sieur, but a lady wishes to ask a great favour of you."
"Of me? What is it?" I inquired, rising.
Glancing at the tall figure in black, I saw that she was not more than twenty-two at the outside, and that she had the bearing and manner of a lady.
"Well, m'sieur, she will explain herself," the man said, whereupon the fair stranger approached bowing, and exclaimed:
"I trust m'sieur will pardon me for what I am about to ask," she said in French. "I know it is great presumption on my part, a total stranger, but the fact is that I am bound to get to Paris to-morrow. It is imperative--most imperative--that I should be there and keep an appointment. I find, however, that all the berths are taken, and that the only vacant one is in your compartment. I thought----" and she hesitated, with downcast eyes.
"You mean that you want me to allow you to travel here, mademoiselle?" I said, with a smile.
"Ah, m'sieur! If you would; if you only would! It would be an act of friendship that I would never forget."
She saw my hesitation, and I detected how anxious she became. Her gloved hands were trembling, and she seemed agitated and pale to the lips.
Again I scrutinised her. There was nothing of the spy or adventuress about her. On the contrary, she seemed a very charmingly modest young woman, for in continuation of her request she suggested that she could sit in the conductor's seat in the corridor.
"But surely that would be rather wearisome, mademoiselle?" I said.
"No, no, not at all. I must get to Paris at all costs. Ah, m'sieur! You will allow me to do as I ask, will you not? Do. I implore you."
I made no reply, for truth to tell, although I was not suspicious, I hesitated to allow the fair stranger to be my travelling companion. It was against my principle. Yet reading disinclination in my silence, she continued:
"Ah, m'sieur! If you only knew in what deadly peril I am! By granting this favour to me you can"--and she broke off short. "Well," she went on, "I may as well tell you the truth, m'sieur," and in her eyes there was a strange look that I had never seen in those of any woman before, "you can save my life."
"Your life!" I echoed, but at that moment the sleeping-car conductor, standing at the buffet-door, called: