"Knowing our man as I do," declared Hans, "I do not think it likely, unless his motor breaks down over these atrocious cobbled roads. No, I think we are soon to meet our expected visitor. Now, are you all thoroughly acquainted with your duties? There must be no failure. Even partial success is not sufficient. Complete obliteration of the man, a final disappearance, is what is required, and what must be accomplished."
A resolute chorus of assent rose from the four subordinates. Their leader, levelling his binoculars, studied the road for the twentieth time.
The five were members of a German Secret Service agency. Provided with registration cards, obtained with the greatest ease, since no attempt had been made to verify the particulars demanded by law; speaking English with a flawless Lancashire accent, members of a trade union, and fully conversant with the peculiarities of industrial life, the men were able to carry on their nefarious scheme with little risk of detection.
After a run of minor activities, an opportunity was about to occur whereby they might render an important service to the Fatherland. A high official was engaged upon an industrial tour of Lancashire and Yorkshire, with the intention of increasing the already huge output of munitions from the factories temporarily given over to the production of war-like stores. The magnetic personality of the man made the task an easy one to him, although others less gifted would have encountered nothing but opposition had they proposed the same conditions to the independent operatives of Lancashire and Yorkshire. He was one of the very few Government officials who understood the northern temperament. When others would have "rubbed them up the wrong way", this level-headed statesman was able to enlist the whole-hearted sympathies of blunt and outspoken audiences. His persuasive powers were worth an army corps to the Commander-in-Chief of the British troops in France.
The five Germans had laid their plans well. Their proposed operations had met with full approval from head-quarters at Berlin, and the result of their efforts was anxiously awaited by the German Government. Since abduction left a loophole in the complete furtherance of the plot, Teutonic thoroughness and frightfulness had devised a more drastic plan.
At the summit of the Blackstone Edge is a large lake or reservoir, its unfenced sides shelving steeply to a depth, in a certain place, of fifty feet. It would be a comparatively simple matter to wreck the car, murder its occupants if they still survived the fall from the overturned vehicle, and topple the wreckage into the dark waters of the mountain lake.
A cloud passed athwart the sun. The sweltering heat gave place to a piercing cold. The Huns shivered in the cold wind and grumbled at the keenness of the English June. Overhead three gaunt crows flew, cawing dismally. With Teutonic superstition one of the men called his companions' attention to the ill omen.
"Nonsense, Otto!" protested the man known as Hans. "The ill luck is directed against the man for whom we are waiting so patiently. Ha! Here comes the car."
With their heads just showing above the ridge, the five kept the approaching motor under close observation. It was climbing rapidly, leaving in its wake a cloud of dust that drifted slowly across the deep valley on the left-hand side of the curve. Presently an unmistakable rasping sound announced the fact that the driver, finding the gradient too severe, had let in the lowest gear.
"Are you certain it is he?" asked one of the Huns. "There are four in the car?"