would watch events, and any time he chose could, after all, join the assembly,
modelling his behaviour on that of the new arrival.
The man who came up the staircase with a furtive, soft-footed tread was
quite unknown to Tommy. He was obviously of the very dregs of society. The low
beetling brows, and the criminal jaw, the bestiality of the whole countenance
were new to the young man, though he was a type that Scotland Yard would have
recognized at a glance.
The man passed the recess, breathing heavily as he went. He stopped at the
door opposite, and gave a repetition of the signal knock. A voice inside called
out something, and the man opened the door and passed in, affording Tommy a
momentary glimpse of the room inside. He thought there must be about four or
five people seated round a long table that took up most of the space, but his
attention was caught and held by a tall man with close-cropped hair and a short,
pointed, naval-looking beard, who sat at the head of the table with papers in
front of him. As the new-comer entered he glanced up, and with a correct, but
curiously precise enunciation, which attracted Tommy’s notice, he asked:
“Your number, comrade?”
“Fourteen, gov’nor,” replied the other hoarsely.
“Correct.”
The door shut again.
“If that isn’t a Hun, I’m a Dutchman!” said Tommy to himself. “And running
the show darned systematically too–as they always do. Lucky I didn’t roll in.
I’d have given the wrong number, and there would have been the deuce to pay.
No, this is the place for me. Hullo, here’s another knock.”
This visitor proved to be of an entirely different type to the last. Tommy
recognized in him an Irish Sinn Feiner. Certainly Mr. Brown’s organization was
a far-reaching concern. The common criminal, the well-bred Irish gentleman, the
pale Russian, and the efficient German master of the ceremonies! Truly a
strange and sinister gathering! Who was this man who held in his finger these
curiously variegated links of an unknown chain?
In this case, the procedure was exactly the same. The signal knock, the
demand for a number, and the reply “Correct.”
Two knocks followed in quick succession on the door below. The first man
was quite unknown to Tommy, who put him down as a city clerk. A quiet,
intelligent-looking man, rather shabbily dressed. The second was of the working
classes, and his face was vaguely familiar to the young man.
Three minutes later came another, a man of commanding appearance,
exquisitely dressed, and evidently well born. His face, again, was not unknown
to the watcher, though he could not for the moment put a name to it.
After his arrival there was a long wait. In fact Tommy concluded that the
gathering was now complete, and was just cautiously creeping out from his
hiding-place, when another knock sent him scuttling back to cover.
This last-comer came up the stairs so quietly that he was almost abreast of
Tommy before the young man had realized his presence.
He was a small man, very pale, with a gentle almost womanish air. The angle
of the cheek-bones hinted at his Slavonic ancestry, otherwise there was nothing
to indicate his nationality. As he passed the recess, he turned his head slowly.
The strange light eyes seemed to burn through the curtain; Tommy could hardly
believe that the man did not know he was there and in spite of himself he
shivered. He was no more fanciful than the majority of young Englishmen, but he
could not rid himself of the impression that some unusually potent force
emanated from the man. The creature reminded him of a venomous snake.
A moment later his impression was proved correct. The new-comer knocked on
the door as all had done, but his reception was very different. The bearded man
rose to his feet, and all the others followed suit. The German came forward and
shook hands. His heels clicked together.
“We are honoured,” he said. “We are greatly honoured. I much feared that
it would be impossible.”
The other answered in a low voice that had a kind of hiss in it:
“There were difficulties. It will not be possible again, I fear. But one