"Certainly. Aloud, if you'll be so good."
Bingo reads, with haltings on the way, for the tissue sheets stick to his large fingers, which are damp with suppressed agitation:
"Haargrond Plaats,
"Near Tweipans,
"October 30th.
"To the Colonel Commanding Her Majesty's Forces in
Gueldersdorp.
"Sir,—I beg to report myself arrived at the above address, twelve miles distant from the head laager of the Boer Commandant, General Brounckers. I have to inform you that an attack will be made on Maxim Kopje South by a large force of the enemy with guns in the beginning of November.
"I have the honour to be,
"On Secret Service,
"Yours most obediently,
"H. Wrynche."
Bingo stares blankly at his Chief, the sheets of crumpled tissue wavering between his thick, agitated fingers.
"I got that letter exactly a week after the attack had been made and successfully resisted," says the Colonel's dry, quiet voice. "Read the four lines in a different hand and ink, that are underlined at the bottom, and tell me what you think of 'em."
Bingo obeyed, and read:
"Lady's information perfectly correct. We hope this intelligence will reach you in time to be useful.