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Updated: May 31, 2025
Crawshay meditated for a moment. "Look here, Miss Beverley," he said, "I have a friend who is chief in this country of a department which I will not name. Will you dine with me to-night and let me invite him to meet you?" She shook her head. "It is a very kind thought," she declared, "but I am engaged. Mr. Jocelyn Thew is dining here." Crawshay's face for a moment was very black indeed.
"Will you excuse me for one moment, Miss Sharey?" he said. "Perhaps Mr. Thew will take care of you." "Perhaps," Jocelyn Thew observed, as he watched Crawshay disappear, "you need some taking care of, eh, Nora?" She shrugged her shoulders. Her eyes sought his. She looked at him defiantly. "Well," she exclaimed, "London's a dull place all alone. So's life."
You are right about the person, though. I am going to telephone to Brightman." "What are you going to say?" she challenged him. "I am just going to tell him," Crawshay confided, "that Jocelyn Thew is dining with Miss Beverley and her brother, more red roses and a corner table in the restaurant, and " "Well, what else?" Crawshay hesitated.
"There were three or four of them went up to the Adelphi to sleep. Some of them came back for their baggage this morning, but I haven't seen Mr. Jocelyn Thew." Katharine rose to her feet. Her tone and expression were impenetrable. "Am I still suspect?" she asked. Crawshay glanced at Brightman, who shook his head. "There is no charge against you. Miss Beverley," he admitted stiffly.
"You see, up to the present we haven't the least idea as to what has become of all those documents and plans which Mr. Jocelyn Thew so very cleverly brought over to this country." "Don't know where he's tucked them away, eh?" she enquired. "That's a fact," Crawshay confessed.
Katharine asked curiously. "You had better not enquire, Miss Beverley. It's just as well not to know too much of these things. Here's Mr. Crawshay," he added. "Perhaps he'll tell you." Crawshay appeared, hugging his lifebelt, on which he seated himself gingerly. "Can't imagine what the captain's up to," he complained.
Her father and brother were connected with the German Secret Service in New York, and on the declaration of war they had to hide. She could scarcely stay there alone." "She might have gone with her father to Chicago," Crawshay observed. "You must remember that she, too, is Irish," Sir Denis pointed out. "I am not at all sure that she wasn't a little homesick. By-the-by, are you interested in her?"
"If you don't give me a different answer in ten seconds, Robins, I'll blow your brains all over the cabin!" The young man broke. "I was trying to pick up the Blucher," he acknowledged. "That's exactly what I thought," Crawshay muttered. "That's the game, without a doubt. What are you? An Englishman?" "I am not!" was the almost fierce reply. "Blast England!"
The City of Boston docked in Liverpool on Sunday night. On Tuesday, at five o'clock in the afternoon, Crawshay, who had been waiting at Euston Station for a quarter of an hour or so, almost dragged Brightman out of the long train which drew slowly into the station. "We'll take a taxi somewhere," the former said. "It's the safest place to talk in. Any other luggage?"
"It is the end," was the solemn reply. "Perhaps if you take the ashes away with you, you will be able to consider that honours are divided." "You burnt them yourself?" Crawshay muttered, still wondering. "Every gentleman in this room," Denis replied, "is witness of the fact that I destroyed unopened the packet which I brought from America, barely five minutes ago."
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