The big wireless code-book—a book which could be bought in Berne for five francs—lay open before him. There was a quick response in the ’phones.
“The London is off the west coast of Ireland,” he remarked, bending with interest. “There’s the reply. Here is ‘London.’”
He touched the “tuner,” one of the round ebonite handles upon a long mahogany box, and next moment a little “click” of quite a different note was heard in the head ’phones.
“Listen?” Rigaux exclaimed, and then for a moment he was again all attention. “Marseilles is speaking to one of your North German Lloyd liners on her way from Alexandria.” Then he paused. “Are you satisfied that I am leaving to your army a complete set, quite in working order—eh?”
“Entirely. Why, it is splendid,” declared the captain, who, though he had no expert knowledge of wireless, had seen quite enough to convince him that the secret installation was practically perfect. “This,” he added, “will surely be of great use to us before many weeks are over. It is splendid!”
“Let us descend,” Rigaux said. “Michel may now be back. This part of the house is, of course, unknown to my servants.”
When they were again back in the financier’s snug little business-room, wherein he received visitors privately, he asked earnestly:
“Tell me, Count, is all complete?”
“Everything. We shall advance to-morrow, or next day. We have mobilised secretly, though Europe is in entire ignorance. First Belgium is to be occupied—then we shall cross to England. Paris is only a secondary affair. London is our chief goal. We shall crush for ever the arrogant English with our Zeppelins and our submarines. Oh! what an unpleasant surprise they will have?” and he laughed.
“But you will not conquer Belgium—eh?”