Part 7 (1/2)
”M M M begins Have located the machine stop Apparently entirely new type stop Tell Manton to be ready stop M M M ends.”
”That's our newest code,” the Captain explained, ”and this is the first time it has been used. Jules learnt it only just before he left. It is very unlikely that the message has been picked up by anyone else, as the wave-length is quite low, but even if it was, no one could decipher the code from such a short message. They would want one very much longer, and even then it would probably take at least a week or ten days of very hard work by a lot of experts.”
And he paused.
”I think it would be well now for one of us to be constantly here,” he went on. ”Perhaps, too, you would like to overhaul your machine so as to have it absolutely ready to get away at a moment's notice. My fellows will give you any help you want and they are all absolutely to be depended upon not to talk.”
d.i.c.k soon had the Mohawk ready; indeed there was not much to do after such a short trip as the flight to Verdun. The rest of the day he spent chatting with Captain Le Couteur, finding him a delightful companion and full of enthusiasm on the subject of wireless, of which his knowledge seemed boundless. d.i.c.k felt he could never tire of admiring the wonderfully ingenious devices which the other had invented and put into operation in his underground fortress.
Several more messages, chiefly brief reports, were received from Jules, always heralded by the seven dots and begun with the three M's which signified the secret code number Five. For a few hours everything seemed to be going well. Then, towards evening came graver news, which on being deciphered, read:
”M M M begins Much fear Yvette suspected stop Tell Manton to be ready instant action stop M M M ends.”
It could only mean, they realised, that Yvette had been recognised by a German agent and was being closely watched. The position was dangerous.
d.i.c.k spent the next few hours in an agony of suspense. But he could do nothing. His first instinct was to fly to Berlin. But Le Couteur's iron common-sense showed him clearly enough that to do so would be futile. To keep the Mohawk in Germany, even for a single day, would be risky; to try to hide her there for perhaps a week till they got a chance to rescue Yvette would be suicidal.
A sudden swoop, swift and relentless action, and a quick escape were the essentials of success.
Captain Le Couteur was scarcely less anxious than d.i.c.k himself. He had known Yvette since she was a child; they came from the same town in Alsace. But he possessed a brain of ice and restrained d.i.c.k's impetuosity, though guessing shrewdly at its cause.
”The time is not come yet,” he declared. ”This is a bit of business which must go to the last tick of the dock. Mademoiselle herself would never forgive us if we spoilt everything by undue precipitation, and, after all, Monsieur Manton, France is of even more importance than Mademoiselle Pasquet, much as I admire her.”
”I know,” d.i.c.k admitted. ”But when I think of her, with her war record, which they know all about, falling into the hands of those brutes, I can hardly sit still.”
”They have not got her yet and she is very clever,” replied Le Couteur.
”Let us hope that she will give them the slip.”
But about ten o'clock the following morning the dreaded blow fell.
They were seated in the underground chamber, d.i.c.k ill at ease and full of gloomy forebodings. The apparatus set to receive messages on three-hundred-and-fifty-metres. Suddenly a buzzing noise was emitted from the loud-speaking telephone on the bench.
Seven dots, seven times repeated, clicked out strong and dear!
Surely seconds had never pa.s.sed so slowly! It seemed an age before Captain Le Couteur, his face white as chalk, took down the message which followed, and then referring to the code, read:
”Yvette arrested this morning by Kranzler.”
d.i.c.k turned dizzy and the room spun round him as the dreadful significance of the words struck him. Kranzler, of all men! The murderer of Yvette's father and mother, the man whom she had beaten over and over again at his own game of espionage during the war, the man whose sensational attempt to dispose of Rasputin's stolen jewels had been foiled by Yvette's skill and daring! He was, as they knew, a desperate brute who would stick at nothing to feed his revenge.
d.i.c.k was rus.h.i.+ng from the room, determined at all hazards to leave for Berlin at once, when Le Couteur seized his arm in a grip of iron.
”Steady, Manton,” he said sharply. ”Don't be a fool. You'll spoil everything. Sit down and wait for more news.”
The words brought d.i.c.k to his senses.
”I'm sorry, Le Couteur,” he said, ”but I think I went a bit mad. You are quite right. But Kranzler--of all men! You know the story, of course?”
Le Couteur nodded.
”It could hardly be worse,” he admitted, ”and there's no use disguising the fact. But we must wait for more from Jules. In the meantime I am going to talk to Regnier. He must have more men on the spot. At all costs Mademoiselle must be rescued.”