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"The fact is, Sir Seymour," Thomson explained, "we've had notice not exactly notice, but we've decoded a secret dispatch which gives us reason to believe that a Zeppelin raid will be attempted on London during the next twenty-four hours. I came round to try and induce Geraldine to have you all move away until the thing's over." "I'll be damned if I do!" the Admiral grunted.
Certainly no greater damage could have been done the allied cause at that time than to have the Germans learn how successfully their submarine campaign was progressing. The question was referred to the Imperial War Council and its consent obtained. The report, however, was sent to the Navy Department in the British naval code, and decoded in the British Embassy in Washington.
There was time enough and to spare between his exploit here and his death for him to deliver it to safe hands. It is doubtless decoded by this time, a copy of it already well on the way to the Wilhelmstrasse." "I am afraid," Stanistreet echoed "I am very much afraid you are right." His thick, spatulate fingers of an executive drummed heavily upon the desk. Stone's figure darkened the windows.
There were consequences. A Minister of Defense of a European nation amusedly watched the tests on his subordinates, blandly excused himself for a moment before his own turn came, and did not come back. A general of division vanished into thin air. Diplomatic code clerks painstakingly decoded the instructions for such tests, and were nowhere about when they themselves were to be tested.
"I understand that you come on a very important matter," he said. "Pray, what is it, gentlemen?" For answer Jack laid before the American naval secretary the decoded message from Lord Hastings. The secretary read it, then looked up. "Well?" he asked. "Why, sir," said Jack, "Lord Hastings simply wishes you to take all precautions to prevent sinking of vessels by submarines in American waters."
An hour after the girl Bauer had been taken away a secret messenger from Berlin brought us another dispatch in cipher, which, when I decoded it, read: "MEMORANDUM FROM NO. 70. 68,428. "Instructions from the Emperor William are to the effect that Germany will deliver a peace offer to Russia on December 12th.
"I assert that other countries are not falling into line with our lamentable abnegation of all secret service defence, and that, in plain words, my uncle was murdered by an agent of one of these countries, in order that the dispatch which had come into his hands should not be decoded and passed on to your Government." The Right Honourable gentleman smiled slightly.
Washington got hold of it, however, and cabled it to us last night. I enclose a copy, decoded. Sincerely yours, The copy was brief enough. Maggie felt her heart sink as she glanced through the few lines: Report dispatched London. Fear escape impossible. Good-by. "Horrible!" Maggie exclaimed, with a shiver. "I thought he was in Russia." "So did we all," Nigel replied.
Rhoda Gray's face was troubled and serious. She found herself wishing for a moment that she had never decoded the message. But she shook her head in sharp self-protest the next instant. True, she would have evaded the responsibility that the criminal knowledge now in her possession had brought her; but she would have done so, in that case, deliberately at the expense of her own self-respect.
"Nigel," she exclaimed, "you see whose handwriting this is? Could it be part of the decoded dispatch?" The telephone enquiry had been unimportant. Nigel pushed the instrument away. They both looked eagerly at the page of manuscript paper.
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