“I can hardly credit it,” exclaimed Miss Beulow.
“Nevertheless it is true. Now, when I have succeeded in my strategy——”
“Strategy!” cried the girl. “It is treachery!”
“Call it what you will,” replied the lieutenant. “When I have succeeded in delivering the British fleet into the hands of the Germans, will you then look with more favor upon me?”
The girl recoiled from him.
“No!” she cried. “No! I wish never to see you again.”
“Do not decide hastily,” said the lieutenant. He drew from his pocket a slip of paper. “Here is the message I sent to the German admiral at Helgoland, the message that means the destruction of half the British fleet.”
Wonderingly the girl took the slip of paper from him and read. It was the message prepared by Lord Hastings, to which was added the postscript that this was the message sent the commander of the British fleet. It bore no signature, although addressed to the German admiral.
“I shall keep this,” said Miss Beulow, and she folded it up and placed it in a small purse she carried. Then she started to move away, but the lieutenant detained her.
“Wait,” he commanded. “You have not answered my question satisfactorily as yet.”