Lessing’s blood ran cold. An adventurer at heart, he yet had the true Englishman’s love of the metropolis. At the thought of danger to London he winced as at a personal wound; in his heart dawned the surprising conviction that he would risk his own life, not once, but a dozen times over, to avert the destruction of that grey old pile.
The destruction of London—mad words! Mad fancy! Was this man a maniac that he spoke of such an impossible feat? Agitated, almost gasping for breath, Lessing heard himself stammer detached words of inquiry:
“When? Where? Where—How do they start—?”
The answer came back in a low hissing whisper:
“The oil tanks on the Thames! Ah-ha, it is a great scheme, a fine scheme. The fuel is lying there, ready to our hands. Three Brothers have volunteered for the bomb throwing. They will die for a great cause. Their names will be remembered as martyrs among us. The burning oil will flare out to the Thames. Think of it! Think of it! A river of flaming oil, joined by other rivers; all the tanks exploded, one by one; the stream of fire flowing along, leaving behind burning shipping, burning banks, spreading ruin to right and left. Think of it, Brother, think of it! Think of the dark stairways and passages, where a man may creep, a man with a torch helping the work, sending the sparks to a fresh home. Who can guard miles of river bank? Who can distinguish one worker from another? Ah, it will be a brave night, a brave night. We have waited, Brother, we have appeared to submit, but now—now—”
His voice grew hoarse with excitement. Lessing pressed his knee gently beneath the table.
“Careful. Be careful. We are observed. Give me my orders!”
The Bearded One drew himself up, and made a pretence of continuing his meal. His voice sank to its old, guttural tones.
“To stay here, and pass round the word. All the Brothers to be on duty, except those watched by the police. Red Fist and Wharbuton to leave by the nine o’clock train from Charing Cross, and cross to Paris. Their departure is to be as public as possible. It would be well if they were given a send-off. If they are out of the way the watch will be relaxed. At all costs they must be found. I go on to other places, you stay here, meet other Brothers, give them all this message. Red Fist and Wharbuton to be found and sent off. All others on duty to-night. Not a moment to waste.”
“Right,” said Lessing quickly, and the Bearded One rose from his seat. Then followed a moment of tension, for suddenly, as if in default of a parting signal, the beetling brows frowned upon him, and a glance of indecision swept across the face. Lessing sensed the danger, and leaped to avert it. Touching the salt with his fingers, he said meaningly: “We are watched, Brother. We are watched!” and bent his head over his plate.