Fighting with French: A Tale of the New Army Page 19

  CHAPTER XIX

  SUSPICIONS

  Next day fresh regiments were moved up, and the Rutlands, who had twiceborne the brunt of the struggle for the hill, were sent into reserve andpromised a long rest. They went back to their old quarters, now a gooddeal farther behind the firing line.

  One night, when Kenneth was returning alone to his billet, he heard thethin squeak of a bat, and glanced up, though it was so dark that hecould scarcely expect to see the animal. To his surprise, he caught amomentary glimpse of it as it flew across the lane. It was as though amoonbeam had flashed upon the wings for the fraction of a second. Butthe moon was not up. The sky was clouded; only one or two stars werevisible; and the rays of a star were too feeble to light up theflittering wings.

  Kenneth was puzzled. He stood still, looking up, waiting for the bat toreappear. It was circling somewhere above him; he could still hear itfaintly squeaking; but it did not again come within view, and after awhile the sound ceased.

  "Extraordinary!" thought Kenneth.

  He was about to move on when he heard the grating of a key in a lock, soslight that it might have passed unnoticed had he not been listeningintently for the bat. In this quiet lane, with trees on one side and agarden wall on the other, the sound challenged curiosity. The villagerswere forbidden to leave their cottages after dark; Kenneth himself hadonly chosen this route as a short cut to his billet; he could not helpsuspecting that one of the inhabitants was breaking rules and enteringhis house by a back way to avoid detection.

  It was no part of his duty to play the policeman, and he would have goneon his way if he had not at this moment heard a light, hasty footfall,as of one walking quickly but cautiously. Instinctively he remainedstill, keeping close to a tree trunk. A man passed him, moving veryquietly, almost touching him. He appeared to be in uniform. A secondlater he heard the key again. Then all was silent.

  He was now interested, suspicious. The man was going in the directionfrom which he had come. Who was he? What was he doing at this latehour? For a moment he thought of following him; but he was averse togetting a man into trouble for what was perhaps a harmless escapade, andhe decided to proceed.

  A few steps brought him to a door in the wall. The man must have beensilently let out, and must have left without a word, the door being thenas quietly closed and locked behind him. The wall, as Kenneth knew,bounded the gardens of two or three of the larger houses. It mightperhaps be worth while to find out from which house this nocturnalvisitor had departed so stealthily. It was too dark to see; Last Postwould be sounded in a few minutes; all that he could do was to put amark upon the door which he could identify next day. He scratched across with his pocket-knife on the right side of the door, on a levelwith the keyhole, which was on the left, and went on, treading lightlyby instinct.

  So soon as he could get off next day, he returned to the lane. The doorhe had scratched was one of three. Two were close together. The wallwas too high for him to look over; he could only discover the house towhich his door belonged by going to the end of the lane, and round tothe front of the houses. The gardens were large; it meant a walk ofsome considerable distance. His most certain course was to number hispaces along the lane, and take an equal number along the street whichthe houses faced. He went along with even stride, and in the lanecounted 239 steps. In the street the 237th pace brought him to the frontgate of Monsieur Obernai. This must be the house. His paces hadprobably differed a little, or the street and the lane were not quiteparallel.

  "It's all right," he thought. "The man was one of the officers'servants, perhaps, sent out on some late errand."

  But as he went away, this explanation did not appear quite convincing.A servant sent on an errand by one of the officers quartered in MonsieurObernai's house would not have been let out stealthily, and locked out.Furtiveness implied an uneasy conscience. Upon this thought came asudden recollection of Madame Bonnard's dislike of the Alsatian. He hadseldom himself come into contact with the village philanthropist; itseemed to him now that he had even avoided him. "It never struck mebefore," he thought, "but I haven't felt the least inclination to meethim. Yet some of the men are quite keen on him."

  On the previous night he had not mentioned the incident to his comrades.It was not in Kenneth's nature to be expansive. He had told them aboutthe sudden appearance and disappearance of the bat, which, however,they, not having seen it, had not regarded as extraordinary. But now, alittle uneasy, he decided to tell them everything. He felt the need oftalking it over.

  "Capting wants you," said Ginger, meeting him at the door of Bonnard'scottage.

  "What's it about?" he asked.

  "That uniform I borrowed; they found some papers in the pockets, inGerman, seemingly, and Capting wants you to read 'em."

  Kenneth went back to Monsieur Obernai's house, was admitted, and foundCaptain Adams with other officers in the mess-room.

  "Ah, Amory, we want you," said the captain. "You know German. What doyou make of that?"

  He handed him a scrap of paper, straightened out after having beencrumpled, on which were written two lines in German.

  "Tell our friend it is now due east," Kenneth translated.

  "That's what I told you, Adams," said one of the lieutenants. "There'snothing in it."

  "Well, look at these, Amory."

  He handed to him the contents of Lieutenant Axel von Schwank'spocket-book. Kenneth looked them over: a copy of the Hymn of Hate, acutting from the _Cologne Gazette_ announcing the blowing up of WoolwichArsenal, some letters from members of the Schwank family, one or twomemoranda of no importance. He translated them aloud one by one.

  "Nothing of any value to us," said the captain. "I think we might givethe letters back to the prisoner. His people idolise him, evidently.Well, the only thing left is this." He took up a crumpled piece ofmusic paper. "Schwank seems to write music in his spare time--a settingof the Hymn of Hate perhaps. Our find is no use. Very good, Amory,that's all."

  But Kenneth, rendered suspicious of everything by his recentdiscoveries, remembered that he had found a similar piece of music paperin the trench some weeks before.

  "Before you tear that up, sir," he said, "I think I'd let Randall have alook at it. We found a paper like it in our trench."

  "You think there may be something in it?"

  "I'm rather suspicious, sir, but I'd rather say no more until Randallhas seen it."

  The captain sent a man to find Harry. When he arrived, Kenneth asked himwhether he still had the piece of music paper he had found. Afterrummaging in his pocket Harry drew the paper out. The two pieces werelaid side by side.

  "Well?" said the captain, when Harry had examined them for a fewmoments. The other officers crowded round in an interested group.

  "They are not alike except in one particular," said Harry: "that neitheris a recognisable tune."

  He whistled the notes.

  "Very ugly, certainly," said the captain. "Any further suggestion,Amory?"

  "What do you call that note in music?" Kenneth asked Harry, pointing tothe first note on Stoneway's paper.

  "B flat," said Harry.

  "And the next?"

  "E, then D, then E again; the next is A sharp above the stave."

  "What are you driving at, Amory?" asked the captain.

  "I was wondering if I could make a word out of it, but _bedea_ doesn'tbegin any word either in English or German that I know of. Try the otherpaper."

  "F sharp, A, G, E," said Harry.

  "It's the sharps and flats that bother me," said Kenneth. "Do they evercall them anything else?"

  "No ... Wait a bit. The Germans call B flat B, and B natural H. Iremember toiling away at a fugue on the name BACH years ago. I say,give me a minute. I've got a notion."

  He sat down at the table, took out pencil and began to write the namesof the notes on the lines and spaces, beginning with A on the secondleger line
below the stave. Having written H on the third line, insteadof writing A on the second space he wrote I, and on the third space J.Then he paused, looking reflectively at the notes originally written.Except in the case of B flat, all the accidentals were sharps.

  "We'll try this," he said.

  On the third space he wrote C sharp, and called it K, and so proceeding,completed the alphabet by writing two notes, the second sharpened, oneach line and space. Z fell on the third space above the stave.

  "Now try again," he said to Kenneth.

  Kenneth took up von Schwank's paper, and read off the names of the notesin this new notation. The first four letters were _Sage_.

  "That's good German," he said.

  "Go on," said the captain. "This is very interesting."

  Kenneth wrote down the letters as he read them.

  "By George!" he cried. "In English it reads: 'Tell our friend it is nowdue east.'"

  "What's due east?" Captain Adams exclaimed. "Try the other paper."

  "The first word is _bedeutend_, 'considerable,'" said Kenneth, writing."The English of it all is, 'Considerable movement in the rear.'"

  The officers glanced at one another.

  "We've had a spy among us, then," said the captain quietly. "Where didyou get this, Randall?"

  Harry explained, without however naming the man whom, in common withKenneth, he now suspected. But his reticence was unnecessary.

  "It's that fellow Stoneway, without a doubt," said one of thelieutenants. "He makes the most weird sounds on his flute. You'llarrest him, Adams?"

  "Wait a little. There's a deep-laid scheme here. There's more than oneman involved. Who is 'our friend'?"

  "I must tell you what I saw last night, sir," said Kenneth.

  He described the stealthy exit from the gate in the lane, and thediscovery that it led from Monsieur Obernai's garden--behind the housein which they were then assembled. Captain Adams whistled under hisbreath.

  "Rather serious for our polite Alsatian host," he said. "We must get tothe bottom of this. It won't do to act too hastily. We must catch thefellow at it."

  "But hang it all, we can't stop here under the roof of a spy," said alieutenant.

  "If I may suggest, sir," said Kenneth, "do nothing yet. Nobody knowsabout this except ourselves. If you leave the house or show any sign ofsuspicion, those who are involved will smell a rat, and we shall perhapsfail to learn all there is to be learnt. Wouldn't it be better if yougo on as usual, and let Randall and me, and perhaps Murgatroyd, keep awatch on the lane?"

  "But Obernai won't appear in the lane," said the captain.

  "Very likely not, sir. I believe his work is done in the house. Youremember the lamp signalling we saw in the church tower."

  "That's in our hands now."

  "Yes, and the light now comes from due east."

  "You think that's it? Have you seen a light?"

  "No, sir; but last night I caught a sudden glimpse of a bat flying abovemy head in the lane; it was for only the tenth of a second, just as ifthe bat had crossed a pencil of light. But I was puzzled, because therewas no light visible. I can't help thinking that it has some connectionwith this discovery, and if you'll give us leave to keep a look-out atnight, we may make sure of it and give you positive grounds for takingaction."

  "What about Stoneway? Hadn't we better keep him under observation?"

  "Leave him to us, sir. I'd give him plenty of rope."

  "And keep enough to hang him afterwards," said the lieutenant of hisplatoon.

  "Very well, Amory," said the captain. "You'll of course say nothing toany one else. We'll do our best to keep up appearances before Obernai,though upon my word it will tax our histrionic powers. If you make anydiscovery, don't come to the house; report to me elsewhere."

  "If we can collar the men, sir?"

  "Oh, in that case do so, and put them under lock and key. But don'tattempt too much: it's of great importance to get hold of the wholegang, for I imagine that we've been unawares in a wasps' nest all thistime. We must scotch them all."

  "One thing, sir, before we go: will you tell us the arrangement of thehouse?"

  "So far as I know it. Our billets are all in the front. Obernai andhis servants live at the back. On this floor there's a long passagebetween us. Upstairs there's no communication between back and front:the doors are blocked up, to secure our privacy, Obernai said."

  "There's a back staircase, then?"

  "No doubt."

  "How many servants are there, sir?"

  "Two men, whom Obernai brought with him from Alsace, he says. I'vecaught a glimpse of an old woman, too, but she rarely leaves the backpremises."

  With this information Kenneth and Harry left the house, and returned totheir billet to consult Ginger.