“But you’ve come. You’ve come. I’ve dreamed it. I’ve seen you coming through that door.” He stopped suddenly, stepped back, and the glory died upon his face. He needed no words to tell him love had not brought her.
“I had to come,” she cried. “There’s going to be murder—here.... They know your engine is ready—that you wired yesterday.... They’re going to blow it up—”
“What’s that?” he demanded. “How do you know I wired yesterday? Who told you? Nobody knows that but myself.”
“You mustn’t ask.... You must promise. I can tell nothing—nothing except that they’re coming to-night to blow up this place—to steal drawings if they can....”
“Who?”
“German spies.... You must believe me, but you mustn’t ask me how I know. Promise you won’t ask, or try to find out.”
“Not ask!... What do you mean? Tell me again.”
“To-night this building—with your watchman—is to be blown up. Some explosive called TNT.... It’s true. How would I know about your telegram?... You must do something. You must stop it.”
“I’ll stop it,” he said, suddenly erect, menacing. He was not startled, she saw, not afraid. He would be ready. It was so she knew he would meet an emergency. “But you,” he demanded, “how are you in this?”
“You mustn’t ask.... Isn’t it enough that I’ve come to warn you—isn’t that enough?”