Practically unnoticed by the throng of country-folk, for it happened to be market day, Athol entered the town. A cup of coffee and two hot rolls, purchased from a very deaf old Dutchwoman at a stall, served to stave off the pangs of hunger, and the lad felt fit for the furtherance of his daring venture.
It was as yet too early to pay a call at the Golden Key. On the other hand it was not advisable to defer the visit until the hour mentioned by Herr Stein, for by that time the spy might have been warned of the fate that had overtaken his intermediary. Waiting, Athol found, was the most tedious part of the whole business. Thanks to his disguise he attracted hardly any attention in the crowded market-place; nor did his ignorance of the Dutch language cause him any inconvenience, for the town was full of Germans, intent upon buying market produce at fabulously high prices.
Paper money, the lad noticed, passed freely, although at a low rate of exchange. The astute Dutchmen had learnt to profit by the fall of the mark, receiving payment in paper money and afterwards returning the notes to Germany, where they were, by Imperial decree, to be accepted at their face value. Judging by the conversation of the German customers, whose tongues wagged with a freedom unknown across the frontier, the civilian element was chafing under the shortage of food and abnormal prices, and one and all seemed sick of the war, which showed no signs of ending, and certainly not with the dazzling success which the Kaiser had promised.
Half-past seven was chiming as Athol ascended the flight of stone steps leading to the door of the Golden Key. In answer to his knock a short and very fat elderly woman appeared, and curtly demanded the lad's business. Although the question was put in Dutch Athol guessed its purport, and, replying in German, asked if Mynheer Jan van Wyck lodged there?
"Didn't you call upon him last night?" demanded the Dutchwoman sharply.
Athol was temporarily taken aback. He was priding himself upon his diplomacy in asking for the spy under his Dutch nom-de-guerre, when the woman's question "shook the wind out of his sails."
Producing a couple of gulden Athol slipped the coins into the woman's hand, and solemnly winked his left eye. The result surpassed his wildest expectations, for standing aside, the vrouw motioned for him to enter.
"Second door to the right on the first floor," she announced as she pocketed the money, and without paying further attention to Jan van Wyck's visitor she disappeared towards the back of the house.
Ascending the worn oak stairs Athol, making certain that his revolver was ready to hand, tapped very softly upon the door. Receiving no answer he rapped again. Then he heard a key turn in the lock and the door was opened for a space of about four inches.
The spy had only just got out of bed. He looked but half awake. That was, possibly, why he failed to distinguish between the genuine Herr Stein and his impersonator, the appropriated clothes being a sufficient disguise.