Part 38 (1/2)

I watched the old man fingering with fiendish delight the terrible machine he had devised for my destruction.

”You and your friend Raymond thought to trap us!” said the Baron. ”But, you see, he who laughs last laughs best. Adieu, and I wish you a pleasant trip, my young friend, into the next world,” and both went out, closing the door after them.

All was silence. I sat there helpless, pinioned, staring at the burning candle and awaiting the most awful death that can await a man.

Ah, those moments! How can I ever adequately describe them? Suffice it to say that my hair was dark on that morning, but in those terrible moments of mental agony, of fear and horror, it became streaked with grey.

Lower and still lower burned the flame, steadily, imperceptibly, yet, alas! too sure. Each second brought me nearer the grave.

I was face to face with death.

Frantically and fiercely I fought to wrench myself free--fought until a great exhaustion fell upon me.

Then, as the candle had burned until the flame was actually touching that thin string which held me between life and death, I fainted.

A blinding flash, a terrific explosion that deafened me, and a feeling of sudden numbness.

I found myself lying on the path outside with two men at my side.

One was a dark-bearded, thick-set, but gentlemanly-looking man--the other was Ray Raymond.

Of the house where I had been, scarcely anything remained save its foundations. The big trees in the garden had been shattered and torn down, and every window in the neighbourhood had been blown in, to the intense alarm of hundreds of people who were now rus.h.i.+ng along the dark, unfrequented thoroughfare.

”My G.o.d!” cried Ray. ”What a narrow escape you've had! Why didn't you take my advice? It was fortunate that, suspecting something, we followed you here. This gentleman,” he said, introducing his friend, ”is Bellamy, of the Special Department at Scotland Yard. We just discovered you in time. Old Van Nierop ran inside again when he met us in the path. He thought he had time to escape through the back, but he hadn't. He's been blown to atoms himself, as well as the Baron, and thus saved us the trouble of extradition.”

I was too exhausted and confused to reply. Besides, a huge crowd was already gathering, the fire-brigade had come up, and the police seemed to be examining the debris strewn everywhere.

”You watched the Baron well, but not quite well enough, my dear Jac.o.x,”

Ray said. ”They evidently suspected you of prying into their business, and plotted to put you quietly out of the way. You have evidently somehow betrayed yourself.”

”But what was their business?” I asked. ”I searched every sc.r.a.p of paper in the Baron's rooms, but was never able to discover anything.”

”Well, the truth is that the reason the Baron came to England was in order to take a house in this secluded spot. Aided by Van Nierop they have established a depot close by in readiness for the coming of the Kaiser's army. Come with me and let us investigate.”

And leading me to a stable at the rear of another house about fifty yards distant, he, aided by Bellamy, broke open the padlocked door.

Within we found great piles of small, strongly bound boxes containing rifle ammunition, together with about sixty cases of old Martini-Henry rifles, weapons still very serviceable at close quarters, a quant.i.ty of revolvers, and ten cases of gun-cotton--quite a formidable store of arms and ammunition, similar to that we found in Ess.e.x, and intended, no doubt, for the arming of the horde of Germans already in London on the day when the Kaiser gives the signal for the dash upon our sh.o.r.es.

”This is only one of the depots established in the neighbourhood of the metropolis,” Raymond said. ”There are others, and we must set to work to discover them. Germany leaves nothing to chance, and there are already in London fifty thousand well-trained men of the Fatherland, most of whom belong to secret clubs, and who will on 'the Day' rise _en ma.s.se_ at the signal of invasion.”

”But the Baron!” I exclaimed, half dazed. ”Where is he?”

”They've just recovered portions of him,” replied Ray, with a grin.

”But that New Year's card!” I exclaimed, and then amid the excitement proceeded to tell Bellamy and my companion what had happened.

”The message you sent to Manchester was to acquaint Hartmann, who is staying at this moment at the Midland Grand Hotel, with their intended vengeance upon you, my dear old chap. Nierop was a Dutch merchant in the City, and his habit was to import arms and ammunition in small quant.i.ties, and distribute them to the different secret depots, one of which we know is somewhere near the 'Adelaide,' in Chalk Farm Road, another is at a house in Malmesbury Road, Canning Town, a third in Shepperton Street, Hoxton, and a fourth is said to be close by the chapel in Cowley Road, Leytonstone.”