“The communications from ‘No. 101’ have begun again,” the secretary pursued; “that in itself is interesting. The Secretary of State therefore desired me to send at once for you, the most trustworthy secret agent we have. In a very few minutes Captain Statham of the First Foot Guards will be here—”
“Sent, I think, from the Low Countries at the request of our agents at The Hague?”
“Ah, I see you are as well informed as usual. You are quite right. Are you,” he laughed, “ever wrong?”
The spy paused. “The communications then from ‘No. 101’ concern the military operations?” was all he said.
“Not yet. But,” he almost laughed, “we have a promise they will. You know the situation. This will be a critical year in Flanders. Great Britain and her allies propose to make a great, an unprecedented effort; his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland will have the supreme command. Unhappily the French under the Maréchal de Saxe apparently propose to make even greater efforts. With such a general as the Maréchal against us we cannot afford to neglect any means, fair or foul, by which his Royal Highness can defeat the enemy.”
“Then you wish me to assist ‘No. 101’ in betraying the French plans to our army under the Duke of Cumberland?”
“Not quite,” the other replied; “we cannot spare you as yet. But you have had dealings with this mysterious cipher, and we ask you to place all your experience at the disposal of Captain Statham.”
“I agree most willingly,” was the prompt answer.
“This curious ‘No. 101,’” continued the secretary slowly, “you do not know personally, I believe?”
The other was looking at him carefully but with a puzzled air.