THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS

Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 June 1939, Page 12

THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS

(PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.) (COPYRIGHT.)

By

JOHN BUCHAN

CHAPTER VI. (Continued). “Oh, damn it all," I cried, “make the fellow shut up. I advise you to leave me alone, constable. Scotland Yard knows all about me, and you'll get a proper wigging if you interfere with me.” “You’ve got to come along of me, young man,” said the policeman. “I saw you strike that gentleman crool ’ard. Y ou began it too, for he wasn't doing nothing. I seen you. Best go quietly or I’ll have to fix you up. Exasperation and an overwhelming sense that at no cost must I delay gave me the strength of a bull elephant. I fairly wrenched the constable off his feet, floored the man who was gripping my collar, and set off at my best pace down Duke street. I heard a whistle being blown, and the rush of men behind me. I have a very fair turn of speed, and that night I had wings. In a jiffy, I was in PalJ Mall and had turned down towards St James’s Park. I dodged the policeman at the Palace gates, dived through a press of carriages at the entrance to the Mall, and was making for the bridge before my pursuers had crossed the roadway. In the open ways of the Park I put on a spurt. It was staking all on getting to Queen Anne's Gate.

When I entered that quiet thoroughfare it seemed deserted. Sir Walter’s house was in the narrow part, and outside it three or four motor cars were drawn up. I slackened speed some yards off and walked up to the door. If the butler refused me admission, or if he even delayed to open the door, I was done. . He didn’t delay. I had scarcely rung before the door opened. “I must see Sir Walter,” I panted. “My business is desperately important.” That butler was a great man. Without moving a muscle he held the door open, and then shut it behind me. “Sir Walter is engaged, sir, and I have orders to admit no one. Perhaps you will wait. The house was of the old-fashioned kind, with a wide hall and rooms on both sides of it. At the far end was an alcove with a telephone and a couple of chairs, and there the butler offered me a seat. “See here,” I whispered. “There’s trouble about and I’m in it. But Sir Walter knows, and I'm working for him. If anyone comes and asks if I am here, tell him a lie.” He nodded, and presently there was a noise of voices in the street, and a furious ringing at the bell. I never admired a man more than that butler. He opened the door, and with a face like a graven image waited to be questioned. Then he gave them it. He told them whose house it was, and what his orders were, and simply froze them off the doorstep. I hadn’t waited long till there came another ring at the bell. The butler made no bones about admitting this new visitor. While he was taking off’ his coat I saw who it was. You couldn't open a newspaper or a magazine without seeing that face cut like a spade, the firm fighting mouth, the blunt square nose, and the keen blue eyes, I recognised the First Sea Lord. He passed above my alcove and was ushered into a room at the back of the hall. As the door opened I could hear the sound of low voices. It shut, and I was left alone again. For twenty minutes I sat there, wondering what I was to do next. 1 was still perfectly convinced that I was wanted, but when or how I had no notion. I kept looking at my watch, and as the time crept on to half-past ten I began to. think that a quarter of an hour Royer should be speeding along the road to Portsmouth . .

Then, I heard a bell ring and the butler appeared. The door of the. back room opened, and the First Sea Lord came out. He walked past me, and in passing he glanced in my direction, and for a second we looked each other in the face. Only for a second, but it was enough to make my heart jump. ( I had never seen the great man before, and he had never seen.me. But in that fraction of time something sprang into his eyes, and that something was recognition.. It came involuntarily, and he passed on. In a maze of wild fancies I heard the street door close behind him. I picked up the telephone book and looked up the number of his house. .We -were connected at once, and I heard a servant’s voice. “Is his Lordship at home?” I asked. “His Lordship returned half an hour ago," said the voice, “and has gone to bed. He is not very well tonight. Will you leave a message, sir?” Not a moment could be lost, so I marched boldly to the door of that back room and entered without knocking. Five surprised faces looked up from a round table. There was Sir Walter, and Drew the War Minister, whom I knew from his photographs. There was a slim elderly man, who was probably Whittaker, the Admiralty official, and there was General Winstanley, conspicuous from the long scar on his forehead. Lastly, there was a short stout man with an irongrey mousta’che and bushy eyebrows, who had been arrested in the middle of a sentence. Sir Walter’s face showed surprise and annoyance. “This is Mr Hannay, of whom I have spoken to you,” he said apologetically to the company. “I'm afraid, Hannay, this visit is ill-timed.” I was getting back my coolness. "That remains to be seen, sir,” I said; "but I think it may be in the nick of time. For God's sake, gentlemen, tell me who went out a minute ago?” “Lord Alloa,” Sir Walter said, reddening with anger. “It was not,” I cried: “it was his living image, but it was not Lord Alloa. It was someone who recognised me, someone I hqve seen in the last month. He had scarcely left the doorstep when I rang up Lord Alloa’s house, and was told he had come in half an hour before, and had gone to

(Lord Tweedsmuir, Governor-General of Canada.)

bed.” “Who —wlio —” someone stammered. “The Black Stone,"l cried, and I sat down in the chair so recently vacated and looked round at five badly scared gentlemen. “Nonsense!" said the official from the Admiralty. Sir Walter got up and left the room, while we looked blankly at the table. He came’ back in ten minutes with a long face. “I have spoken to Alloa,” he said. “Had him out of bed —very grumpy. He went straight home after Mulross’s dinner." “Don't you see the cleverness of it?” 1 said. “You were too interested in otker things to nave any eyes. You took Lord Alloa for granted. If it had been anybody else you might have looked more closely, but it was natural for him to be here, and that pul you all to sleep.” Then the Frenchman spoke, very, slowly, and in good English. “The young' man is right. His psychology is good. Our enemies have not been foolish!” “But I don’t see.” went on Winstanley. “Their object was to get these 'dispositions without our knowing it. Now it only required one of us to mention to Alloa our meeting tonight for the whole fraud to be exposed. Sir Walter laughed dryly, “The selection of Alloa shows their acumen. Which of us was likely to speak to him about tonight? Or was he likely to open the subject?” I remembered -the First Sea Lord’s reputation for taciturnity and shortness of temper. “The one 1 thing that puzzles me,” said the General, “is what good his visit here would do that spy fellow? He could not carry away several pages of figures and strange names in his head.” “That is not difficult,” the Frenchman replied. “A good spy is trained to have a photographic memory. Like •our own Macaulay. You noticed he said nothing, but went through these papers again and again. I think we may assume that he has every detail stamped on his mind. When I was younger I could do the same trick.”

“Well, I suppose there is nothing foi; it but to change the plans,” said Sir Walter ruefully. Whittaker was looking very glum. “Did . you tell Lord Alloa what has happened?” he asked. “No? Well, I can’t speak with absolute assurance, but I’m nearly certain we can’t make any serious change unless we alter the geography of England.” “Another thing must be said.” It was Royer who spoke. “I talked freely when that man was here. I told him something of the military plans of rny Government. I was permitted to say so much. But that information would be worth many millions to our enemies. No. my friends, I see no other way. The man who came here and his confederates must be taken, and taken at once.” “Good God,” I cried, “and we have not the rag of a clue.” “Besides,” said Whittaker, “there is the post. By this time the news will bT on its way.” “No,” said the Frenchman. “.You do not understand the habits of the spy. He receives personally his reward, and he delivers personally his intelligence. We in France knpw something of the breed. There is still a chance, mes amis. These men must cross the sea, and there are ships to be searched and ports to be watched. Believe me, the need is desperate for both France and Britain.”

But I saw no hope in any face, and I felt none. Where among the fifty millions of these islands and within a dozen hours were we to lay hands on the three cleverest rogues in Europe?” Then suddenly I had an inspiration. “Where is Scudder’s book?” I cried to Sir Walter. “Quick, mhn; I remember something in it.” He unlocked the door of a bureau and gave it to me. I found the place. “Thirty-nine steps,” I read, and again “Thirty-nine steps—l counted them—High tide, 10.' 17 p.m.” The Admiralty man was looking at me as if he thought I had gone mad. “Don’,t you see it’s a clue?” I shouted. “Scudder knew where these fellows laired —he knew where they were going to leave the country, though he kept the name to himself. Tomorrow was the day, and it was some place where high tide was at 10.17.” “They may have gone tonight, someone said. “Not they. They have their own snug secret way and they won’t be hurried. I know Germans, and they arc mad about working to a plan. Where the devil can I get a book of Tide Tables?” Whittaker brightened up. “It's a chance,” he said. "Let’s go over to tiic Admiralty.” We got into two of the waiting mo-tor-cars —all but Sir Walter, who went off to Scotland Yard —to “mobilise MacGillivray,” so he said. A resident clerk was unearthed, who presently fetched from the library the Admiralty Tide Tables. I sat at the desk and the others stood round, for somehow or other I had got charge of this expedition. It was no good. There were hundreds of entries, and so far as I could see 10.17 might cover fifty places. We had to find some way of narrowing, the possibilities. I took my head in my hands and thought. There must be some way of reading this riddle. What did Scudder mean by steps? I thought of dock steps, but if he had meant that I didn't think he would have mentioned the number. It must be some place where there were several staircases. and cue marked out from the others by having thirty-nine steps.

(To be Continued.)