British Secret Service During the Great WarEveritt, Nicholas
History
British Secret Service During the Great War
Everitt, Nicholas
Secret service -- Great Britain; World War, 1914-1918 -- Secret service -- Great Britain
But on the occasion in question, in the course of my calm, contemplative
meditations upon the bed, I had evolved the comforting conclusion that
it would be better far to borrow the foot-gear of some other traveller
in order to carry into effect my playful little deception, rather than
sacrifice any more boots of my own. The ruse would assuredly work
equally as well, whilst past experiences had taught me that it was a
much easier matter to remove a pair of boots from a neighbouring doorway
than to leave my own behind, necessitating the trouble and expense of
their subsequent replacement.
"Shooting the moon" in this manner is a pastime which I may add is not
usual with me, but there are occasions in the career of everyone when
discretion and retirement are undoubtedly the better part of valour.
Next morning I was chuckling to myself at about 10 o'clock, and
picturing the confusion and the language likely to be used by the
parties mostly concerned, at the small hotel I had quitted so suddenly
overnight.
What a sell it would be to His Excellency the Baron to find that his
bird had once more flown, and what a head-aching task he would have of
it if he tried to trail his quarry Indian fashion instead of relying
upon the surer and less worrying methods known to the Secret Service
agents of all nations.
At least I knew I was safe for another week certain, and much could be
done in that time. So I journeyed away in an exulting frame of mind to a
colleague who I knew had some very interesting investigations which he
was following up in the neighbourhood of one of the largest and most
important docks on the Baltic Sea.
Within a couple of hours of my arrival I was in harness again. Some
important particulars from the manifest and bills of lading of a big
steamer were wanted. The captain was a convivial soul with a great
weakness for sport of all kinds; and it was suggested that I, being a
sportsman myself, might be able to succeed in drawing him, although so
far no one else had been able to do so.
A bottle of whiskey and a bundle of cigars were calculated to be
sufficient to move the information required. But they failed. Patience
and perseverance rarely fail. On this occasion both seemed useless.
From 2 p.m. until 2 a.m., twelve solid hours, I sat listening, talking,
complimenting, criticising, flattering, cajoling, and arguing in such
manner that at first I entirely disagreed, then allowed myself to be
talked round to absolute approval. In short, no artifice that calculated
cunning could suggest was omitted, yet results proved fruitless. Thus at
2 a.m. I was forced to abandon my objective of the day, and I agreed it
was time to turn in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account