From Françoise he understood that the Austrian, whose name was Koblitz, was a Government undersecretary, and the Russian’s name was Isaakoff, and that their visits were upon official matters concerning Czecho-Slovakia.
At last, one day when Doctor Koblitz had unexpectedly arrived alone, the new wireless station in the forest was completed, and Geoffrey thoroughly tested the reception side, which he found gave highly satisfactory results, considering the screening from the trees. Both the Baron and Doctor Koblitz, together with Françoise, took the telephones and listened to the signals from Elvise, Rome, Warsaw, Carnarvon, Arlington, Lafayette, Lyons, and other of the “long-wave” stations. Indeed, during the whole afternoon Geoffrey entertained them by tuning-in messages and copying them from dots and dashes of the Morse code.
Both the Baron and Koblitz expressed their delight; therefore that evening Geoffrey ventured to ask where the second station was to be erected, for quite ten days before all the remaining cases had been despatched to a destination of which he had been kept in ignorance.
“My Government have not yet decided,” was his reply. “The boxes have been sent to Versec, close to the Serbian frontier. No doubt to-morrow or next day we shall hear what is decided. You said this afternoon that you have finished, and that all is in order to transmit—as well as to receive?”
“Yes,” Geoffrey replied, “all is ready. I have only now to put up the corresponding station.”
“Could you, for instance, send off a message for me to-morrow—say at noon?”
“Certainly,” said Falconer. “We are ready to run and give a test whenever you like.”
“Excellent. Then we will go over in the car to-morrow and send out the test message—eh, Monsieur Koblitz?” was the genial, brown-bearded man’s reply.
That night Geoffrey failed to sleep. Five weeks had passed since he left London, and though he had written to Sylvia several times, he had received no word of reply. If she had been in Paris, she was surely at Upper Brook Street again!
He was ignorant of the significant fact that each letter he had left for Ludwig to post had been taken by Françoise and handed to her uncle, who had opened it and read it in conjunction with Karl, the faithful man-servant. Afterwards each letter had been burned. This had been repeated each time Geoffrey had written a letter, either to Marconi House, to his father at Warley, or to any other person.