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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Anderson," the adventurer nodded: "that, at least, was his alias when he jockeyed himself into the second steward's berth aboard the Assyrian." He glanced idly across the room, discovered Blensop once more at pause in a stare, and grinned amiably.
"I have information of the gravest moment to communicate to the head of the British Secret Service in this country." The secretary looked startled. "What makes you think Colonel Stanistreet is connected with the British Secret Service?" "I don't think so; I know it." After a moment of hesitation Mr. Blensop yielded graciously. "If you can come back at nine to-morrow morning, Mr.
"I think " Blensop began, and checked sharply as the man Walker came into the room. "Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop " There was an accent of impatience in those beautifully modulated tones: "Well, what is it now?" "A lady to see you, sir." Blensop took the card from the proffered salver. "Never heard of her," he announced brusquely at a glance. "She asked for Colonel Stanistreet or for me?"
Colonel Stanistreet was not at home. Knowing what we know now, that Blensop was a creature of the German system here, bought body, soul, and conscience through its studied pandering to his vices, we know he could not well have refused to surrender the combination on demand." "Still I fail to understand...." "Ekstrom, being Ekstrom, could not resist the opportunity to play double.
"And now, Colonel Stanistreet, if you will call Mr. Stone and have this traitor removed...." When Stanistreet had gone out in company with Stone, and the broken, weeping Blensop, ending a scene indescribably painful, a lull almost as uncomfortable to Lanyard ensued. Then "How did you guess?" Cecelia Brooke asked in wonder.
"Thank you so much. Good morning, Dr. Apthorp." Lanyard was passing the desk when Blensop rose, and the footman was entering with his salver. "A lady to see Colonel Stanistreet, sir by appointment, she says." Blensop glanced at the card. At the same time Stanistreet came in from the garden, leaving Stone to potter about visibly in the distance. "Miss Brooke is here, sir," the secretary announced.
"You won't say what you wish to see him about?" A trace of asperity marred the music of those tones; Mr. Blensop further indicated distaste of the innuendo inherent in Lanyard's use of the word "employer" by delicately wrinkling his nose. "I am sorry," Lanyard replied sufficiently. The door behind him opened, and the footman intruded. "Beg pardon, Mr. Blensop...." "Yes, Walker?"
Blensop had drawn near and was eyeing Lanyard as if under the influence of hypnotism. "How how do you know that?" he asked in a broken voice. "Clairvoyance, Mr. Blensop. I seem to see, as I hold this pad, somebody writing upon it the combination for the information of another who had no right to have it somebody using a pencil with a hard lead, Mr.
The cussedness of the inanimate was strong in this pen: since its reservoir was quite empty it mulishly refused more service without refilling. With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Blensop found a filler in one of the desk drawers, and unscrewed the nib of the pen.
Blensop remained in the neighbourhood of Mr. Stone, hovering round him like a domesticated humming-bird. "Do you find anything?" he enquired, when Stone straightened up. "Fingerprints a-plenty," Mr. Stone admitted with a hint of temper "a slew of the damn things. Looks like you must've called in the neighbours to help make a good show. However, we'll see what we can make of 'em."
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