He pulled a creased and folded newspaper from his pocket, and, holding it up to the guttering light, pointed a shapely yet begrimed forefinger at a certain paragraph.
"Our Muizenberg pal has dodged the firing-party," continued Fortescue. "The blighter is a bit of a wily fox, and judging by his history he's badly wanted."
The paragraph was to the effect that Konrad von Feldoffer, a German convicted of espionage by a general court martial, had made a daring and successful attempt to escape. How, the report did not say, but the fact remained that a dangerous spy was still at large. It went on to say that Konrad von Feldoffer was known to be a German naval officer. Upon the outbreak of hostilities he was in Canada. After various attempts, successful and otherwise, to cripple the internal communications of the Dominion, he fled across the border to the United States. Too late he was traced to Australia, where he enlisted in a Victoria regiment, deserting when the Anzacs were under fire in Gallipoli. Shortly afterwards he turned up in India, joined a volunteer regiment under orders for Mesopotamia, and mysteriously vanished during the retreat from Ctesiphon. Proceeding to England, and posing as a mercantile marine officer, forged documents and an engaging manner procured him an introduction to Whitehall, with the result that he was given a commission in the Royal Naval Reserve and appointed to an armed merchant cruiser. One of his first exploits in that capacity was to board a supposed Norwegian tramp, whose decks were piled high with timber. The vessel was allowed to proceed--a wolf in sheep's clothing, as a dozen or more Allied ships learned to their cost. Three weeks after commissioning, the merchant-cruiser was torpedoed and sunk in broad daylight by a U-boat. While the crew were taking to the boats, the submarine appeared on the surface. To the surprise of the British officer and crew, the hitherto unsuspected spy swam across to the hostile craft. Having picked him up, the U-boat submerged and disappeared from the scene. Too late it was discovered that the renegade was one and the same with the now notorious Konrad von Feldoffer. For several months nothing was heard of the spy's activities. As a matter of fact, the cosmopolitan rogue was particularly busy in South Africa, drifting thence into German South-West Africa, where he played a conspicuous part in a daring gun-running expedition under the nose of a British cruiser.
On the principle that it is advisable to desert a sinking ship in time, von Feldoffer drifted via Johannesburg to Cape Town, where his efforts to get into communication with German mine-layers operating off the Cape met with slight success. He was now anxious to return to the Fatherland. Accordingly he joined an Afrikander regiment of heavy artillery under the name of Pieter Waas, only to be apprehended on board the transport at Selwyn's instigation.
From the date of the paper--it was ten days old already--Malcolm gathered that the spy had been at liberty for nearly a month. Unless he were already recaptured it was pretty certain to conclude that von Feldoffer was clear of the British Isles. Would his experiences and narrow escape deter him from further enterprises or merely whet his appetite for other surprising adventures?
"One thing is pretty clear," declared Fortescue; "he won't risk showing up with the New Zealand boys. But, by Jove, it's close on two o'clock. Our fellows have to assemble at that hour. S'long, chums; I'll look out for you when we fall in. We may as well keep together in this stunt."
Fortescue was barely gone when the Platoon Sergeant entered the dug-out.
"Turn out, boys," he ordered. "Don't forget your gas-masks. Fritz will be letting loose a few gallons of stink, I reckon."
"What time do we go over, Sergeant?" enquired one of the riflemen.
"When the whistles go, sonny," replied the non-com., with a prodigious wink, "and not before."