meeting is essential–to define my policy. I can do nothing without–Mr. Brown.
He is here?”
The change in the German’s voice was audible as he replied with slight
hesitation:
“We have received a message. It is impossible for him to be present in
person.” He stopped, giving a curious impression of having left the sentence
unfinished.
A very slow smile overspread the face of the other. He looked round at a
circle of uneasy faces.
“Ah! I understand. I have read of his methods. He works in the dark and
trusts no one. But, all the same, it is possible that he is among us now….”
He looked round him again, and again that expression of fear swept over the
group. Each man seemed eyeing his neighbour doubtfully.
The Russian tapped his cheek.
“So be it. Let us proceed.”
The German seemed to pull himself together. He indicated the place he had
been occupying at the head of the table. The Russian demurred, but the other
insisted.
“It is the only possible place,” he said, “for–Number One. Perhaps Number
Fourteen will shut the door?”
In another moment Tommy was once more confronting bare wooden panels, and
the voices within had sunk once more to a mere undistinguishable murmur. Tommy
became restive. The conversation he had overheard had stimulated his curiosity.
He felt that, by hook or by crook, he must hear more.
There was no sound from below, and it did not seem likely that the
doorkeeper would come upstairs. After listening intently for a minute or two,
he put his head round the curtain. The passage was deserted. Tommy bent down
and removed his shoes, then, leaving them behind the curtain, he walked gingerly
out on his stockinged feet, and kneeling down by the closed door he laid his ear
cautiously to the crack. To his intense annoyance he could distinguish little
more; just a chance word here and there if a voice was raised, which merely
served to whet his curiosity still farther.
He eyed the handle of the door tentatively. Could he turn it by degrees so
gently and imperceptibly that those in the room would notice nothing? He
decided that with great care it could be done. Very slowly, a fraction of an
inch at a time, he moved it round, holding his breath in his excessive care. A
little more–a little more still–would it never be finished? Ah! at last it
would turn no farther.
He stayed so for a minute or two, then drew a deep breath, and pressed it
ever so slightly inward. The door did not budge. Tommy was annoyed. If he had
to use too much force, it would almost certainly creak. He waited until the
voices rose a little, then he tried again. Still nothing happened. He increased
the pressure. Had the beastly thing stuck? Finally, in desperation, he pushed
with all his might. But the door remained firm, and at last the truth dawned
upon him. It was locked or bolted on the inside.
For a moment or two Tommy’s indignation got the better of him.
“Well, I’m damned!” he said. “What a dirty trick!”
As his indignation cooled, he prepared to face the situation. Clearly the
first thing to be done was to restore the handle to its original position. If
he let it go suddenly, the men inside would be almost certain to notice it, so,
with the same infinite pains, he reversed his former tactics. All went well,
and with a sigh of relief the young man rose to his feet. There was a certain
bulldog tenacity about Tommy that made him slow to admit defeat. Checkmated for
the moment, he was far from abandoning the conflict. He still intended to hear
what was going on in the locked room. As one plan had failed, he must hunt about
for another.
He looked round him. A little farther along the passage on the left was a
second door. He slipped silently along to it. He listened for a moment or two,
then tried the handle. It yielded, and he slipped inside.
The room, which was untenanted, was furnished as a bedroom. Like everything
else in the house, the furniture was falling to pieces, and the dirt was, if