Back in his great, gloomy bedroom he stood for some time at the window, gazing out upon the gorgeous scene of moonlit mountain and silent Carpathian forest. The attitude of the two men during that evening had become suspicious—the more so because the Baron had so constantly evaded his question as to the site of the second wireless station, and also the identity of the mystery station, “C.H.X.R.” Who, too, was Petresco? It was apparently a Roumanian name. Once again a strange intuition crept over him—a premonition of impending evil.
A quarter of an hour later he removed his evening shoes and crept back again down the great oak staircase to the door of the room wherein the two men were in consultation.
Bending he could hear their voices speaking low and confidentially. But they were speaking in Hungarian, hence he could not understand a single word. Probably it was only politics they were discussing; therefore, after waiting ten minutes, all the time in fear of the approach of Karl, he was about to return to his room when, of a sudden, he heard a few words in French.
Koblitz was speaking.
“Yes, I quite agree,” he said. “Your plan is excellent. The wireless station must remain a complete secret. This young fellow’s lips must be closed. The two men we have here are both good wireless men, and are affiliated to our cause. Hence they can be trusted completely. Falconer we cannot trust—even if we attempted to bribe him, for he is an Englishman and would accept nothing.”
“I am glad you agree, mon cher,” the Baron replied. “At the wireless station to-morrow he will accept a drink from my flask—and then—well, the forest will an hour later hold its secret,” he remarked meaningly.
Geoffrey held his breath. Could it be possible that their plan was to poison him, and bury him in the forest, now that he had completed his work?
It was quite apparent that the station he had erected was a secret one, established for some illicit purpose.
He listened again, but Koblitz was only congratulating his friend upon the success of what he termed “the great scheme.”
Silently Geoffrey crept back up to his room. His mind was made up. By his natural intuition of impending peril he had been forewarned. Hence putting on a pair of strong walking boots, he assumed his overcoat and let himself out of the great rambling place by a door he knew. In the moonlight he ascended the steep winding path which led to the wireless huts, and on arrival there, unlocked the house in which the transmission panel was erected. Then, switching on the light, he took up a hammer and deliberately smashed every one of the big glass valves.