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Updated: May 31, 2025
On that point also you will be fully instructed. And now I must fly!" "But I say, sir," Desmond interposed hastily. "You haven't told me what I am to do. What part am I to play in this business anyway?" "To-morrow," said the Chief, buttoning up his coat, "you become Mr. Basil Bellward!"
Suspicion being thus aroused, the telegram was forwarded to the Postal Censor's department whence it reached the Intelligence Authorities who promptly spotted the connection between the wording of the telegram and the imminent departure of the drafts, more especially as the dates tallied. Thereupon, Mr. Bellward was hunted up and ultimately traced by his correspondence to The Mill House.
"Now, Barling," said Desmond, when Bellward had been borne away, "I want you to tell these gentlemen the story of the raid on the Hohenlinden trench." Barling glanced rather self-consciously about him. But the look of intense, almost nervous watchfulness on the face of Maurice Strangwise seemed to reassure him. And when he spoke, he spoke straight at Strangwise.
While it was doubtful whether Barling would hear the noise or, if he heard it, connect it with Desmond, it was certain that Strangwise and Bellward would do both and be upon Desmond without a moment's delay. Then Desmond's eye fell upon the electric candle which had slid to the very edge of the table.
In the meantime, Bellward had leaned over the girl and with a few passes of his hand had brought her back to consciousness. She sat up, one hand pressed to her face, and looked about her in a dazed fashion. On recognizing Desmond she gave a little cry. "Take her away!" commanded Strangwise. Bellward had unfastened the ropes binding her feet, and he and Mrs.
"And you think I'll do, Crook, eh?" Crook rubbed his nose meditatively. "I'll be quite frank with you, Mr. Bellward," he said: "With a superficial acquaintance, even with an intimate friend, if he's as unobservant as most people are, you'll pass muster. But I shouldn't like to guarantee anything if you were to meet, say, Mrs. Bellward, if the gentleman has got a wife, or his mother.
Malplaquet!" the girl replied in the same dull tone as before. "Upon my word," exclaimed Mrs. Malplaquet, "you might have told me that we were going to my own place..." But Strangwise shut her up. "Bellward and I will come on by tube... it is safer," he said, "hurry, hurry! We must all be under cover by eight o'clock... we have no time to lose!"
You were there, knocked out of time on the floor, in your disguise as Bellward, so I knew that the man with Strangwise was the real Bellward and I consequently deduced that Strangwise was Mortimer and consequently the very man we had to catch. "We were done brown. If we had had a little more time to think things out, we should have found that motor-bike and I would have gone after the trio myself.
I never spotted you, I admit, even when the real Bellward turned up: that idea of putting your name in the casualty list as 'killed' was a masterstroke; for I never looked to find you alive and trying to put it across me. But to return to what I was saying your job was to smash my little system, and if you pull it off, it's a feather in your cap.
"But those two women are alone in the cellar," exclaimed Barbara, "they are being murdered! Ah! what was that?" A gentle thud resounded from below. A man came in through the door leading from the bar: He had a fat, smooth-shaven face, heavily jowled. "All ready, Bellward?" asked Strangwise carelessly. Barbara stared at the man thus addressed.
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