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It was the white paper package, exactly as Barbara had described. "Look at it well, Behrend," said Mortimer, holding it up for the young man to see, "it cost me a man's life to get that. If it had sent twenty men to their death, I should have had it just the same!" Mrs. Malplaquet clapped her hands, her eyes shining. "Bravo, bravo!" she exclaimed, "that's the spirit!
We shall have to confine our operations to London while Max and Mr. Behrend here will be entrusted with the task of getting the news out to our submarines." No. 13 broke in excitedly. "Vork in London, vork in London!" he cried. "It is too dangerous, my vriend. Vot do I know of London? But, London... it is senseless!" Mortimer turned his gig-lamps on the interrupter.
"Goot efening, Mr. Mortimer," said the tall man in a guttural voice, "this is Behrend" he indicated the young man by his side "you haft not meet him no?" Then, leaving Behrend to shake hands with Mortimer, he literally rushed at Desmond and shook him by the hand exactly as though he were working a pump handle. "My tear Pellward," he cried, "it is a hondred year since I haf see you, not?
Well, you've killed two of my people and you've arrested the ringleader." "Meaning Behrend?" asked Desmond. "Behrend be hanged! I mean Nur-el-Din!" "Nur-el-Din was not the ringleader," said Desmond, "as well you know, Strangwise!" "Your employers evidently don't share your views, Desmond," he replied, "all the documents were found on Nur-el-Din!" "Bah!" retorted Desmond, "and what of it?
"I shall be delighted to receive our friends," Desmond replied, "a glass of sherry?" "Thank you," said Mortimer. "I shall have to provide a few refreshments," said Desmond. "May I ask how many guests I may expect?" Mortimer reckoned on his fingers. "Let's see," he answered, "there's Max, that's one, and Madame Malplaquet, that's two. No. 13 and Behrend makes four and myself, five!"
"Quite right," agreed Behrend, nodding his head in assent. "You have had one singular surprise to-night already," Desmond resumed, "in the matter of the jewel which our respected leader was about to show us: if you recollect, our friend was only prevented from giving us the explanation which he certainly owed us over his little hoax by the arrival, the most timely arrival, of his confederate..."
"Fiddlesticks!" retorted the lady, "the timbre is quite different! Bellward, I believe you're in love! Don't tell me you've been running after that hank of hair that Mortimer is so devoted to!" She glanced in Mortimer's direction, but that gentleman was engaged in earnest conversation with Behrend and the tall man. "Whom do you meant" asked Desmond. "Where are your eyes, man?" rapped out Mrs.
Barbara sat musing for a while, her eyes on the restless sea. "How strange it is," she said, "to think that they are all dispersed now... and the transports are sailing securely to France. Two were killed at the Mill House, Behrend committed suicide in prison, Bellward died in hospital, Mrs. Malplaquet has disappeared, and now Strangwise has gone. There only remains..."
Mortimer had pulled out his super-Mauser; No. 13, who was guarding the door, had a revolver in his hand, and Behrend, as has been stated, was threatening Mortimer with his Browning. Now Max advanced threateningly into the room, a long seaman's knife in his hand.. "Put that blarsted shooting-iron awiy!" he snarled at Mortimer, "and tell us wot's the little gime, will yer! Come on, egpline!"
"Let's hear about the precious mission," jeered Behrend, "let's see the evidence. The threats'll keep!" Then Mortimer told them of how the Star of Poland came into Nur-el-Din's possession, and of the Crown Prince's embarrassment when the German authorities claimed it for the regalia of the new Kingdom of Poland.
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