"This," he said, touching the roughly-drawn map of a section of the Channel, "this is the work of the ship's captain?"
"Yes."
"But what of this?" and Hillyard lifted again the elaborate chart of Cardiff by night. "Some other hand drew this."
Fairbairn agreed.
"Yes. Here is the report which goes with the charts. The chart of Cardiff was handed to the captain in an inn on shore. It came from an unknown person, who is mentioned as B.45."
Hillyard seized upon the report and read it through, and then the others upon the top of that. Cloth, saddlery, equipment of various kinds were needed in England, and a great sea-borne trade had sprung up between the two countries, so that ships constantly went to and fro. In more than one of these reports the hieroglyph B.45 appeared. But never a hint which could lead to his detection—never anything personal, not a clue to his age, his business, his appearance, even his abode—nothing but this baffling symbol B.45.
"You have cabled all this home, of course," Hillyard observed to Fairbairn.
"Yes. They know nothing of the B.45. They are very anxious for any details."
"He seems to be a sort of letter-box," said Hillyard, "a centre-point for the gathering in of information."
Fairbairn shook his head.