The Spy in Black

by J. Storer Clouston

V.

A MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURE.

Monday morning broke wet and windy, but with every sign of clearing up. Tiel looked in for a very few minutes, but he was in his most uncommunicative mood, and merely told me that he would have to be out for the first part of the day, but would be back in the afternoon. I could not help suspecting that he was still a little sore over my refusal to remain with him, and was paying me out by this display of secrecy. Such petty affronts to officers from those unfortunate enough to be outside that class are not unknown. I was of course above taking offence, but I admit that it made me feel less anxious to consult his wishes at every turn.

In this humour I wrote for a time, and at last got up and stared impatiently out of the window. It had become quite a fine day, and the prospect of gazing for the greater part of it at a few acres of inland landscape, with that fascinating spectacle to be seen from the front windows, irritated me more and more. And then, to add to my annoyance, I heard "Boom! Boom! Boom!" crashing from the seaward side, and shaking the very foundations of the house. I began to feel emphatically that it was my duty to watch the British fleet at gunnery practice.

Just then two women appeared, walking slowly away from the house. One had an apron and no hat, and though I had only once caught a fleeting glimpse of the back view of our servant, I made quite certain it was she. I watched them till they reached a farm about quarter of a mile away, and turned into the house, and then I said to myself—

"There can be no danger now!"

And thereupon I unlocked my door, walked boldly downstairs, and went into the front parlour.

I saw a vastly different scene from yesterday. A fresh breeze rippled the blue waters, patches of sunshine and cloud-shadow chased each other over sea and land, and distinct and imposing in its hateful majesty lay the British fleet. A light cruiser of an interesting new type was firing her 6-inch guns at a distant target, and for about five minutes I thoroughly enjoyed myself. And then I heard a sound.

I turned instantly, to see the door opening; and very hurriedly I stepped back behind the nearest window curtain. And then in came our servant—not the lady I had seen departing from the house, I need scarcely say! I was fully half exposed and I dared not make a movement to draw the curtain round me; in fact, even if I had, my feet would have remained perfectly visible. All I could do was to stand as still as a statue and pray that Heaven would blind her.

She walked in briskly, a middle-aged capable-looking woman, holding a broom, and glanced all round the room in a purposeful way. Among the things she looked at was me, but to my utter astonishment she paid no more attention than if I had been a piece of furniture. For a moment I thought she was blind; but her sharp glances clearly came from no sightless eyes. Then I wondered whether she could have such a horrible squint that when she seemed to look at me she was really looking in another direction. But I could see no sign of a cast in those eyes either. And then she picked up an armful of small articles and walked quickly out, leaving the door wide open.

What had saved me I had no idea, but I was resolved not to trust to that curtain any longer. In the middle of the room was a square table of moderate size with a cloth over it. Without stopping to think twice, I dived under the cloth and crouched upon the floor.

The next instant in she came again, and I found that my table-cloth was so scanty that I could follow her movements perfectly. She took some more things out, and then more again, and finally she proceeded to set the furniture piece by piece back against the wall, till the table was left lonely and horribly conspicuous in the middle of the floor. And then she began to sweep out that room.

There was small scope for an exhibition of resource, but I was as resourceful as I was able. I very gently pulled the scanty table-cloth first in one direction and then in the other, according to the side of the room she was sweeping, and as noiselessly as possible I crept a foot or two farther away from her each time. And all the while the dust rose in clouds, and the hateful broom came so near me that it sometimes brushed my boots. And yet the extraordinary woman never showed by a single sign that she had any suspicion of my presence!

At last when the whole floor had been swept—except of course under the table—she paused, and from the glimpse I could get of her attitude she seemed to be ruminating. And then she stooped, lifted the edge of the cloth, and said in an absolutely matter-of-fact voice—

"Will you not better get out till I'm through with my sweeping?"

Too utterly bewildered to speak, I crept out and rose to my feet.

"You can get under the table again when I'm finished," she observed as she pulled off the cloth.

To such an observation there seemed no adequate reply, or at least I could think of none. I turned in silence and hurried back to my bedroom. And there I sat for a space too dumfounded for coherent thought.

Gradually I began to recover my wits and ponder over this mysterious affair, and a theory commenced to take shape. Clearly she was insane, or at least half-witted, and was quite incapable of drawing reasonable conclusions. And the more I thought it over, the more did several circumstances seem to confirm this view. My fire, for instance, with its smoke coming out of the chimney, and the supply of peat and firewood which Tiel or I were constantly bringing up. Had she noticed nothing of that? Also Tiel's frequent ascents of this back staircase to a part of the house supposed to be closed. She must be half-witted.

And then I began to recall her brisk eye and capable air, and the idiot theory resolved into space. Only one alternative seemed left. She must be spying upon us, and aware of my presence all the time! But if so, what could I do? I felt even more helpless than I did that first night when my motor-cycle broke down. I could only sit and wait, revolver in hand.

When I heard Tiel's step at last on the stairs, I confess that my nerves were not at their best.

"We are betrayed!" I exclaimed.

He stared at me very hard.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, and I am bound to say this of Tiel, that there is something very reassuring in his calm voice.

I told him hurriedly. He looked at me for a moment, began to smile, and then checked himself.

"I owe you an apology, Belke," he said. "I ought to have explained that that woman is in my pay."

"In your pay?" I cried. "And she has been so all the time?"

He nodded.

"And yet you never told me, but let me hide up in this room like a rat in a hole?"

"The truth is," he replied, "that till I had got to know you pretty well, I was afraid you might be rash—or at least careless, if you knew that woman was one of us."

"So you treated me like an infant, Mr Tiel?"

"The life I have lived," said Tiel quietly, "has not been conducive to creating a feeling of confidence in my fellowmen's discretion—until I know them. I know you now, and I feel sorry I took this precaution. Please accept my apologies."

"I accept your apology," I said stiffly; "but in future, Mr Tiel, things will be pleasanter if you trust me."

He bowed slightly and said simply—

"I shall."

And then in a different voice he said—

"We have a visitor coming this afternoon to stay with us."

"To stay here!" I exclaimed.

"Another of us," he explained.

"Another—in these islands? Who is he?"

As I spoke we heard a bell ring.

"Ah, here she is," said Tiel, going to the door. "Come down and be introduced whenever you like."

For a moment I stood stock still, lost in doubt and wonder.

"She!" I repeated to myself.